Carry Me Home
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Remus Lupin is trying to get his life back together after being released from prison. James Potter thought he knew what he wanted, until he met a certain maid. Sirius Black is searching for the reason he's still alive. Peter Pettigrew is struggling to stay on the right side. They are all lost. Until their lives collide. AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for more. :) Your support means a lot to me, guys, so thank you to everyone who has made time to read my stories. You are all amazing.**

 **So, a little background for this story: each chapter will be based on a song from a musical. I will not be putting the lyrics in here or anything like that, but I will let you know what song inspired the chapter and what musical it's from, in case you're interested. This is also multi-perspective.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to J.K. Rowling.**

 **Carry Me Home**

 **This is the Moment (Jekyll and Hyde)**

 **Chapter 1**

Remus John Lupin sighed, his back and arms aching. He raised his pickaxe above his head, and brought it back down again, trying to ignore the way the rough wood scraped across his hands. For four years he had done this, joined his fellow inmates in their quest- mining for diamonds, gold, and iron, anything that might help the war effort. Except, this was entirely the wrong side of the war to be working for, in Remus' opinion, but he had no choice- not if he valued his life. And he had to get out of here. He had to see his mother again. She needed him.

She was why he was there in the first place.

Remus Lupin was not a hardened criminal. He was not ruthless, or coldhearted. He had been sentenced to four years of relentless labor for stealing bread for his mother and Frank Longbottom's family. He had been caught, but not before he had gotten the food to Frank and the instructions to _run,_ _before they caught them,_ and to _make sure his mother got some._

 _Frank's eyes widened in horror. "But, Remus, I can't leave you behind! They'll kill you, or worse, recruit you to fight on Riddle's side-"_

 _Remus put a hand on his shoulder. "Frank. I'd die before I fought for him, and if they do kill me, I die knowing that you all get to live another week."_

 _Franks grabbed Remus' wrist. "Please. Don't sacrifice yourself for us, we're in this together- you and I, and our mothers."_

 _Remus smiled sadly. "Don't you see, Frank? I'd never be able to live with myself if I did anything else. I'll see you again, I promise. Take care of Mum, alright?"_

 _Frank looked lost. "Please," he begged. "We can both get away."_

 _Remus shook his head. "You know how Riddle's world works. Someone committed a crime, so someone must pay. They have no idea that you were an accomplice, and it's my fault they're after us. I got caught. I'll pay the price. Go."_

" _It was_ our _plan," Frank whispered._ "Ours."

 _Remus hugged him tight, then whispered in his ear._ "Go."

 _Clutching the stolen food to hs chest, Frank took off, ducking down an alley right before Riddle's soldiers caught sight of Remus. They grabbed him roughly, arrested him, and Remus was sentenced to four years of imprisonment._

He had only been seventeen.

Now he was twenty-one.

He knew more about the world now.

Remus wiped the sweat off his brown, the black grime from mining smearing across his forehead. It was cool in the mine, but the work was difficult, and Remus always sweated buckets before the day was over. After so long in the mines, Remus was thin, but strong. His hands were heavily calloused, and were littered with tiny scars, but Remus still clung to hope. Hope that someday soon, the war would be over and he would be free- or that his sentence would end, and he could go home, to his mother.

"Put your back in it, boys!" cackled one of the overseers. She was the worst- she was at Tom Riddle's right side. Wild curly dark hair, ebony eyes, and she was quite mad. Bellatrix Lestrange loved to terrorize the prisoners. "The Dark Lord is getting impatient for supplies!"

Remus swung the pickaxe down hard, breaking the rock it hit. Nothing. He groaned inwardly. He was fairly sure that they had exhausted this part of the mine, which meant that they'd begin to send people in deeper, which was very dangerous. Remus shivered involuntarily. Someday soon, he'd be out of here.

Hopefully.

Bellatrix climbed atop a large boulder, and cleared her throat. "Today's release," she began. Everyone stopped working and stared at the number that had been burnt into their skin upon their arrival hopefully.

Please, Remus thought desperately as he wrenched his own sleeve up. Let it be today.

"Come forward, 764902."

Remus stared at his arm in shock. There, on his flesh, read, 76490... 3.

Bitter disappointment welled up inside him. He had been _so close_. Maybe next time.

Or, maybe never.

Antonin Dolohov, whose rank was just below Bellatrix's, approached her. "Madame Lestrange..."

"What?" she snapped at him.

"Prisoner 764902... is dead. He died last week. I suggest moving on to the next prisoner... the one whose release was also due this week."

Bellatrix pouted. "Oh, if I must." She sighed, and read out again. "764903. Come forward."

Heart in his mouth, Remus limped over. The others cast jealous glances at him and went back to work. He stopped in front of Bellatrix.

She looked down her nose at him haughtily. He was nearly six inches taller than her, but she still stood on that boulder.

"Your sentence is up," she informed him. "Do you know what that means?"

How thick did she think he was? "Yes. It means I'm free to go."

Bellatrix snarled. She'd be very beautiful if her expressions weren't so ugly. "No. It means that you don't have to mine anymore." She leaned closer to him. "We will be watching you. There is no where you can go that we can't follow."

Remus' heart raced. "Why would you want to keep tabs on me?"

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed, her sour breath tickling his face. "I know your kind. You may be a part of the rebellion- or you soon will be- but mark my words... your talents would be better used on my Lord's side. Tom Riddle can keep you protected. If you join the Order of the Phoenix... you will be shown no mercy."

Remus took a step back. "I don't even know what that is."

Bellatrix leaned back. "Make sure it stays that way."

As Remus hurried away, Bellatrix called after him. "Do not forget Bellatrix Lestrange, 764903. I will not forget _you_."

Remus shivered.

* * *

Remus walked along the alleyways that he used to know like the back of his hand. The road system was the same, but the buildings were new, as were the people on the street. No one recognized him.

Perhaps it was better that way.

Remus shook his head. No. This was his chance to start anew, to get a good job and elevate his status, so he might protect his mother and stay out of Riddle's numbers. He could picture it now: a small, cozy cottage tucked away from all the warfare, his mother and Frank's mother laughing by the fire, Remus and Frank exchanging stories. Maybe Frank's wife- if he had one- would be entertaining her children and shaking her head at her husband and Remus. Maybe _Remus'_ wife would be cooking in their kitchen, her belly swollen with their unborn child-

Remus shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself.

He passed by the many merchants desperately attempting to trade their goods, and the market stalls selling fruit and vegetables. Somewhere around here, he knew, was the tiny shack-like house where he and his mother had lived. If only he could remember exactly where to turn...

"Remus Lupin! Boy, is that you?"

Remus turned. Then his face split into the first grin he had worn in four years. "Augusta! It's been awhile!"

Augusta Longbottom hurried over to Remus and embraced him tightly. "Oh, boy, I've missed you so much. I'm so glad you're out of that hellhole."

Remus gripped her just as tightly. "So am I. I'm glad to be out. I've missed you." He pulled away slightly, taking in Augusta's heavily lined face and steely blue eyes. Her hair, just as he remembered, was iron-grey and wound in a thick bun at the nape of her neck. "How's Mum?"

Augusta's face fell. "Oh, Remus, dear..."

"Mum?" another familiar voice called. "Where'd you go?"

Frank. He rounded the corner, a woman Remus did not recognize at his side. The two of them were carrying an armful of groceries, and Remus' mouth watered.

Remus stuffed his hands in his shabby coat pockets. "Hullo, Frank." Tears pricked at his eyes. "Remember me?"

The bags spilled from Frank's arms. His green eyes were wide. "Remus," he breathed. Then he laughed. "It's really you!"

The two old friends ran to each other, and hugged fiercely.

Frank pulled away after a moment, his face wet. "You're too thin," he grinned sadly. "And you're hands are too rough."

Remus shrugged. "I had to work in the mines for a while. You get strong pretty fast."

Frank's eyes widened. "The mines?"

Remus nodded. "Yeah," he admitted quietly.

The woman approached them. "Frank? Who's this?"

Frank's face brightened. "Dear, this is Remus, my oldest friend. Remus, this is Alice, my wife- we were wed last year."

Remus smiled. He stuck out his hand. "It's a pleasure."

Alice shoved her bags at Frank and shook his hand warmly. Her curly brown hair was tied back from her round face, and her warm brown eyes sparkled happily. "A friend of Frank's is a friend of mine."

Frank laughed. "I'll fill you in about Remus in a minute, love. He's a good man. And Remus, I'll fill you in on what you've missed, if you'll just come with us."

Remus nodded, and fell in step beside Frank. The two men gathered up the fallen bags, and Remus followed Frank to the house he and Alice shared.

"Frank," Remus asked after a moment. "How's Mum?"

Frank stopped walking. He drew a shaky breath. "Remus, mate... Hope died last year."

Remus felt as though he had been punched in the gut. His breath was stolen from him, and he was vaguely aware that he was shaking his head in disbelief.

Frank looked at him apologetically. "She... didn't do so well after you were arrested. Then she got sick, and, well, we're doing better financially now, but we still couldn't afford the proper medicine for her. She wasn't in any pain." he added softly. "I'm so sorry, mate."

Remus swallowed, and nodded. "She's with Dad now, anyway. She's happier. At least now, she's away from the war."

Frank nodded. "Let's go inside."

The four of them sat in the Longbottom's living room, and Remus gratefully accepted the bread and cheese that Augusta offered him, and the tea that came after it.

Frank sighed, and turned to Alice's questioning gaze. "Alice, love. You remember how I said that, before I met you, things were kind of... rough?"

Alice nodded, looking worried.

Frank pursed his lips. "Well, we were getting a little desperate. So Remus and I- we've known each other since we were kids- we pulled a little... stunt."

Augusta rolled her eyes. "Just spit it out, son." She turned to her daughter-in-law. "The four of us- those two boys, myself, and Remus' mother- were in the slums, barely scraping by. Remus' mother, Hope, was too sickly to work, and, let's face it- I just can't move like I used to. Frank and Remus pulled the odd job for a couple of coins, but they were too young to be hired permanently." Augusta narrowed her eyes at Alice, looking extremely intimidating. "We were starving. Another day without food, and the lot of us would have been dead. So Remus nicked some bread from an estate. Frank helped him get away, but Riddle's soldiers were after them. Remus gave himself up so Frank could get away with the food. That was four years ago."

Alice's eyes were bright. "Oh, Frank, you should have _told_ me." she whispered. She turned to Remus. "Are you... alright?"

Remus attempted a smile. "Better than most."

Augusta frowned. "What have you been doing there, anyway, boy?"

"Mining, he said," Frank spoke up.

Augusta huffed. "Damn that Riddle."

Remus shuddered. "Never saw him," he murmured. "But Antonin Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange were frequents there."

The Longbottoms stilled. Frank turned to Remus, the fear evident in his eyes. "You've seen them?"

Remus nodded, turning the mug of tea around in his hands. He looked up suddenly, a strange excitement filling him. "Have you ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Augusta frowned, and Frank shook his head. Alice, however, looked a bit startled. "Why do you want to know?" she asked.

Remus lowered his voice. "Upon my release, Bellatrix warned me not to join. I think it must be some sort of group that opposes Riddle. She told me to remain ignorant of it, and that my 'talents' would be better used working for Riddle."

Alice looked intrigued, while Frank looked worried. "But... why would they want you, Remus?"

Remus shrugged. "I dunno. But think about it. If we were to join, we could help take Riddle down. We could start a revolution!"

Frank stared. "Remus. You just got out of prison after four long years- and that was for stealing one loaf of bread. Imagine what could happen if you were caught helping a secret society that was plotting against Riddle."

Remus frowned. "Frank, that's why we need it. Imagine- a fair law system, lower taxes, equal opportunity-"

Frank shook his head. "No, Remus. I only just got you back. I can't lose you again. Please, just... before you go off changing the world, get back on your feet, okay? Wait a while. To make sure that's really what you want."

Remus' shoulders sagged. "You're probably right."

Frank relaxed. "You can stay here," he offered. "I'm sure Alice won't mind." He looked at his wife for confirmation.

Alice, still looking thoughtful, nodded absentmindedly. "Of course he can stay here. He's a brave man."

Remus quickly shook his head. "I don't want to impose."

"Just until you can get back on your feet, then," Alice offered. "Please, Remus. It's no trouble."

Remus bit his lip. "Well... just until I get a job and can afford my own place."

Frank nodded. "Of course."

That night, Remus quietly mourned the loss of his mother as he laid in the first bed he had slept in in four years. He was no longer so eager to join the Order of the Phoenix, but the idea didn't completely leave his mind. He resolved to look for a job the next day, and Frank offered to take him to his mother's grave on his way to work the next morning.

Remus closed his eyes, a kind woman with auburn hair and his amber eyes invading his dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back. :) Thanks to all my readers/reviewers, follows/favorites. You guys are the best. So, this chapter is still Remus' perspective, but next chapter will be someone else's. Also, to anyone who got the Les Miserables hints last chapter- you are officially one of my favorite people. It's one of my favorite musicals. But, not to worry, I'm not taking the plot. XD**

 **I'm sick in bed, writing this for you. See how much I care about you all? Don't say I never did anything for you. ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Waving Through A Window (Dear Evan Hansen)**

 **Chapter 2**

The next morning, Remus woke up early, as he always did. It wasn't even dawn yet, but Remus was used to getting up early for work. In fact, he threw himself out of his bed, thinking he was late, and woke up Alice in the process. He apologized profusely once he had realized that he was no longer in prison, but Alice just waved away his concern.

"Oh, Remus, it's fine, really, I was going to be up in a bit anyway." she assured him. This did not fool Remus, however, because there was no hiding the bags under her eyes. He felt so guilty. She had obviously had a rough night, and he woke her up at an ungodly hour. He tried to decline breakfast, but Alice wouldn't let him leave until he had eaten something. This had woken Augusta, which only made Remus feel worse. Then Augusta told him to sit down and eat, and then she woke Frank up.

Remus had, on the first night he had stayed in their house, woken everybody up early.

 _Way to go, Lupin._

After breakfast, Frank took Remus to the cemetery, to Hope Lupin, nee Howell's grave.

Frank stood behind Remus, hands stuffed awkwardly in mis coat pockets. "I'll, er, leave you alone for a moment."

Remus shook his head, eyes never leaving his mother's headstone. "It's okay, Frank. Go to work. I remember my way around town."

Frank bit his lip, uncertain. "I dunno, Remus. A lot has changed since you've been here last. You're sure you can find your way back?"

Remus nodded. "I knew those streets like the back of my hand. I can find my way."

Frank sighed. "If you're sure." Frank paused, then continued. "I know you want to look for a job today, but wouldn't you rather enjoy your first few days of being free first? A job can wait."

Slowly, Remus shook his head. "Frank, for the past four years, I've done nothing _but_ work. I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

His answer seemed to sadden Frank, but his friend didn't protest. "Alright. I'll see you this evening, Remus. Stay safe."

"You too."

He listened to Frank's footsteps grow quieter, until he could no longer hear them. After a moment of intense silence, Remus spoke.

"Hello, Mum."

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, and he sniffed loudly. Voice breaking, he continued. "It's been awhile since I've seen you last. I'm fine. I know you're wondering. Did you know Frank was married last year? His wife, Alice- I don't know if you met her- is a wonderful woman, very kind. They're good for each other, I can already tell. Don't worry about me. Although, you've always worried about me anyway."

He paused, biting his lip. What was he supposed to say? He was talking to a hunk of stone, rambling meaningless things to it. He angrily wiped his face with the back of his hand. Why her? What had she done to deserve such a hard life- or a son who couldn't help her, who was arrested, leaving her to die alone? The guilt of this consumed Remus. On some level, he knew that this wasn't his fault, that sometimes things like this couldn't be helped. He had saved lives by stealing the bread, but he'd never see his mother's smiling face again, or hear her bell-like laughter. He had missed it so much.

And now, it seemed, he'd continue to miss it.

"I- I love you, Mum. I'll make you proud, I promise. I'll come back soon."

Remus stood, unable to remain in the cemetery any longer. The grief was crushing him, as was the knowledge that this dreary space was the only place he'd be able to be near his mother again. Remus wrapped his shabby coat more tightly around himself as he hurried towards the exit. He wiped the remaining tears from his face and took a shaky breath. Today, he'd get a job. Tomorrow, he'd build a stable life for himself. One where he'd never have to resort to stealing again.

Well. That was the plan, anyway.

* * *

Remus sat in his fifth interview of the week. His would-be employer, a Mr. Reynolds, peered at him over his spectacles sadly.

"Mr. Lupin, you appear to be a very bright young man-"

Remus straightened excitedly. _Finally-_

" -however, I cannot overlook your criminal record."

Remus slumped. "Please, sir, my family was starving, I made that choice out of necessity-"

Mr. Reynolds sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin. But you have applied here as a teacher, something I'm sure you are highly capable of, but the fact remains that parents will not like having someone with your history teaching their children."

The hope was quickly draining out of Remus. "Please, sir, I need this job. If there's any way I can change your mind-"

Mr. Reynolds shook his head. "Mr. Lupin, I'm afraid that I cannot employ you. You're academic achievements are impressive, but the time you spent in prison blemishes your good first impression. I can, however give you a good bit of advice."

Remus leaned forward eagerly.

"You must stop looking for work in the academic field."

Remus reeled back, shocked. "I'm sorry?"

Mr. Reynolds sighed again. "Mr. Lupin, it is to my understanding that, thus far, you have only applied for academic jobs- as a teacher and private tutor, is that correct?"

Remus nodded hesitantly.

"Well, to be frank, Mr. Lupin, you will have no luck being employed in those fields. You're best bet is... somewhere a bit more taxing."

Remus wilted. "You mean manual labor. A factory job, or something."

Mr. Reynolds nodded sympathetically. "Yes. There are a few places I can recommend to you, who might be willing to overlook your past. That is the best I can do for you, I'm afraid."

Remus nodded. "Thank you, sir." he said quietly.

Mr. Reynolds smiled at him kindly. "Give it a few years, Mr. Lupin, when you've had time to build a good name for yourself. Try again then."

Remus nodded, standing. "Thank you again."

"Of course."

* * *

Determined to stay out of the factories, Remus attempted to find another job. Three weeks went by, and Remus had no success. Occasionally, he could get the odd job running errands for somebody, but a couple of coins a week wasn't much to go by. Any money he did make, he gave to Frank and Alice, who always protested loudly.

" _But Remus!"_ Frank had spluttered the first time. " _It's yours, you earned it-"_

" _And I am currently draining your own money supply by living off of your earnings." Remus responded flatly._

 _Frank crossed his arms stubbornly. "Things I am only too happy to give you."_

 _Remus held out the three knuts he had made that day. "Money I am only too happy to give you."_

 _Frank frowned. "I won't take your money, Remus."_

 _Remus looked at his friend desperately. "Please, Frank. It's all I can offer you."_

 _Frank sighed as he took the money. "This is it. I won't accept anything else from you."_

 _Remus smiled sadly. "Until my next payment."_

 _Frank scowled. "Things will get better."_

 _Remus laughed humorlessly. "One can only hope."_

Now, however, unemployed and living off of his friend's generosity, things were looking bleak.

Remus walked through the front door of the Longbottom's house in poor spirits. It had been another fruitless day of job searching.

Augusta was in bed with a migraine, and Frank was still at work. Alice wasn't usually home when Remus got back, so it was a surprise when he found her in the kitchen.

He froze in the doorway. "Alice?"

She turned, a hand over her heart. "Oh, Remus! You scared me." She pulled out a chair. "Come on, sit. Want some tea?"

Remus shook his head. "No, I couldn't-"

Alice smacked the seat of the chair. "Sit. Tea."

She left no room for argument. Gulping, he lowered himself into the chair, looking at Alice warily. "Yes?"

Alice busied herself making the tea, and glanced over her shoulder when it was nearly finished. "Sugar?"

The price of sugar flashed through Remus' mind. "Er, no thank you."

Alice smirked, reading his mind. "Two lumps it is, then."

Remus sighed, knowing that protesting was useless. No doubt Frank had told her about his sweet tooth. Merlin, how he missed chocolate. But it was simply too expensive to get now, even for the middle class.

Thanks a lot, Riddle.

When Remus was very young, about a week before his fifth birthday, Remus had been diagnosed with influenza. His father, Lyall Lupin, had been worried that he might not make it much longer. So he had worked for three entire days straight, without sleep, taking other people's shifts at his job as a city guard, so he could pull together enough money to buy his son a small bar of chocolate. Miraculously, Remus survived, and to this day, Remus swore it had been the chocolate.

Unfortunately, Lyall Lupin had been declared MIA two months later.

Alice sat down, placing a cup of tea in front of Remus. She brought her own to her lips, and took a sip. "How's the job hunting going?"

Remus took a long drink. "Not bad."

"Liar."

Remus sighed. "I qualify for many respectable jobs- good jobs- but I can't get any of them because of my... history." He sighed, looking down at his cup. "Someone suggested manual labor. A factory job. But I... I worked in the mines for so long, and I swore I'd never go back to long hours breaking your back for little or no payment." he all but growled, glaring down at his tea. Then his shoulders sagged and he felt the anger that has bubbled up so quickly drain away. "But now it seems I don't have a choice."

Alice frowned, thinking. "Don't give up. Give it a few more weeks. Then, if you still can't find anything-" She leaned towards him, smiling. "Look harder."

Remus shook his head. "It's been nearly two months. I can't keep living off of your generosity."

Alice sighed. "Listen, Remus, you can do what you want, but Frank and I really don't mind. And I know that you feel like a burden, but did you ever think that Frank feels like he's repaying you this way? For all the years you spent in the mines, that could easily have been Frank right alongside you. But you saved him from that. He thinks of this as paying a debt."

Remus looked bewildered. "I don't need payment for that."

Alice laughed. "I know. But Frank doesn't think you're a burden. Neither of you can see it, though. It's what makes you so alike."

Remus grinned a little. Then he straightened his shoulders. "How about I look for three more weeks? Then, I'll get a factory job, or something."

Alice stuck out her hand. "Sounds good to me. Deal?"

Remus shook it. "Deal."

* * *

Remus strode through the busy streets of Riddle's Empire, glancing around nervously. Alright, so maybe it was actually called Hogsmeade, but Riddle's Empire was turning out to be more accurate.

Every day the streets grew more dangerous. The city guards, which had once been a force of good and a source of comfort to the citizens, had been overrun by Riddle's men. Very few were safe anymore, so people avoided going out after dark- and if they did venture outdoors after the sun set, it wasn't alone.

Riddle believed in perfection and order. If someone or something didn't match his vision of a perfect world, they were... done away with. Every man, woman, and child were afraid to come home to find the Dark Mark on their door- a paper flyer with a snake and skull on it. This meant that the occupants of the house had been arrested, or worse.

Luckily, Riddle mostly left the poor alone- his iron fist held mostly the middle and upper class. He seemed to realize that the poor were needed to do the most unpleasant jobs in the city- and that desperate souls gave him more manpower.

Riddle ruled mercilessly, and silenced any voice that spoke against him. His forces- the city guards and most of the upper class families- had been dubbed the Death Eaters, a name that Riddle had not discouraged. Remus found himself hoping that, if the Order of the Phoenix did indeed exist, they would do something soon, before it was too late.

Distracted by his thoughts, Remus didn't notice the young woman until he had crashed into her.

They both fell to the ground, the laundry the woman had been holding landing on the muddy ground. Remus' eyes widened- they had been _white_.

"I'm so sorry!" Remus gasped, scrambling to save the now-ruined sheets from the worst of the mud.

"I wasn't paying attention- oh dear- I just- they're ruined." he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He stood up, sheets in hand, and offered his free arm to help the woman up.

She took his hand, looking mournfully at the dirty linen. Lips pressed into a thin line, she tried to take the laundry back. Her green eyes looked livid, and Remus winced.

"Please," Remus began. "Let me pay you- I'm sure I have some coins here somewhere-" He dug around in this pockets, coming up with only a small handful of knuts. His heart sank. This wasn't nearly enough to pay for what he had destroyed.

He glanced at the woman, taking her in. She had brilliant green eyes, and long red hair twisted into a loose knot at the base of her neck. Her pale skin and pretty features did nothing to make her less intimidating, though. "I- my name is Remus. I can get more to you next week," he said, pressing the coins into her hand. She looked surprised. "I'm sorry I don't have enough at the moment."

The woman blinked, then shook her head. "No, I can't take this. It was an accident. Besides, I can wash these again- I'll just get paid a bit later than usual. Besides- you look like, well..." She trailed off awkwardly.

Remus cleared his throat. "Like I need it more?"

Her eyes widened, and she quickly said, "I didn't mean to offend-"

Remus shook his head. "It's alright. You're probably right." He frowned. "I am sorry I cost you your paycheck."

The woman smiled. "No worries. I work for Lady McKinnon. She's very understanding."

Remus nodded. "If you're sure."

Her eyes sparkled. "I'm Lily, by the way. Lily Evans."

Remus stuck out his hand. "Remus Lupin."

They shook.

"I must get going now," Lily said. "Have a nice day, Remus."

Remus inclined his head. "Thank you. I hope your day is pleasant as well."

The two parted ways, and Remus didn't expect to see Lily again, except perhaps in passing.

Little did the two of them know that they'd be seeing a lot more of each other in the months to come, and not under pleasant circumstances.

 **A/N: Sorry about this chapter. It was difficult to write. I'm having trouble not rushing the story, but I'm so excited to get all my ideas down. XD Tell me what you think of this chapter. Also, the rating may change. The Harry Potter series is supposed to be eight and up, so I think that K+ is ok... But in later chapters, if you feel the rating should change to T, please PM me. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for chapter three. I hope you like it. So, since Christmas is approaching, I might be a little slow on updating, because I want to post a Christmas one-shot. Just so you know. ;)**

 **Anyway, I hope everyone's getting into the Christmas spirit, or Hanukkah spirit, or whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **One Song Glory (Rent)**

 **Chapter 3**

James Potter walked confidently down the streets of his hometown. He felt very pleased with himself. For so long, he and his parents had despaired over Riddle's reign of terror, and James was finally doing something about it. He had listened carefully to the whispers on the street, and had heard of the Order of the Phoenix.

The Order of the Phoenix. The secret group of rebels not only speaking out against Riddle, but plotting to overthrow him.

And James was now a member.

It hadn't been easy. When he heard the first few rumors, he had scoffed. No one, it seemed, was brave enough to do that- no one except him, it seemed.

But James kept poking around. He visited pubs and alleyways, under the anonymity of a thick hooded cloak, and listened to drunk men nervously whisper about the group of people who were risking their necks for a dream.

It sounded too good to be true.

He continued to sneak out at night, gathering information. Now, James was a rich member of the upper class, and under the strict supervision of Riddle and his followers. All in all, sneaking out at night without making anyone suspicious was no easy task. In fact, it was almost unspeakably dangerous.

But he was _James Potter_.

He'd be damned if he just sat and stared as Riddle murdered innocents.

Once James had found out about this secret organization and knew that it wasn't some drunk man's fantasy, he had begun his search for members. After weeks of research, James was pretty sure that he had found an Order member.

Dorcas Meadowes.

He remembered their meeting vividly. She had made it hard to forget.

 _James stood on the doorstep of a large house, before the giant oak doors. He raised the brass lions head knocker and brought it down three times._

 _The door opened a minute later, revealing a small woman with chocolate colored hair and eyes. "Can I help you?"_

" _Are you Dorcas Meadowes?" James asked eagerly._

 _The woman put her hands on her hips. "Who wants to know?"_

 _James bowed slightly. "James Potter."_

 _Her eyes narrowed. "Don't think your money can intimidate me into letting you in. Social status has no standing here."_

 _James grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, Ms. Meadowes. I just wanted to say that I'd like to join."_

 _Her guarded look disappeared, replaced by one of surprise and confusion. "Join? Join what?"_

 _James glanced around and lowered his voice. "Not here."_

 _Taking the hint, she led him inside. Once the door was shut firmly behind them (and bolted shut) Dorcas turned to him. She crossed her arms. "Join what?"_

 _Still whispering, James answered. "Why, the Order of the Phoenix, of course."_

 _In less than a second, James was slammed into the wall, his glasses askew, Dorcas' forearm pressing into his windpipe. Her brown eyes bore into his hazel ones angrily. Her hair was loose around her face, and her olive skin looked a bit ghostly in the moonlight streaming through the window._

" _How do you know about the Order?" she demanded. "How do you know I'm a member?"_

 _James managed to choke out a few syllables, expressing the fact that in order to answer her questions, he'd need a little more air first._

 _Rolling her eyes, Dorcas relieved some of the pressure._

 _James cleared his aching throat. "I heard rumors of the Order on the streets, and in the rougher pubs. I thought it was ridiculous at first, but I continued hearing about it from people who had absolutely no connection to each other, so I knew it must be true. I wanted to join. So, all I had to do was track down an Order member, and request a place among their ranks. People were discussing how one of Riddle's men witnessed part of a meeting, and how an outspoken woman with dark hair was the only person he could see. Most people wouldn't connect that back to you, but I know better. Everyone thinks the woman was a noble, but I know that if that were the case, she'd be dead already. The lower class was out- they always tie their hair up, to keep it out of their faces during work. That left the middle class. I investigated for a bit, until I eventually narrowed it down to you- you stick to the middle. Never saying anything that could get you noticed, your job isn't impressive, nor is it terrible. You are too neutral. That's how I noticed you. That's how I knew."_

 _Dorcas slowly lowered her arms. "You noticed me- because I was so good at going unnoticed?"_

 _James nodded, rubbing his throat. "So. Can I join?"_

 _Dorcas backed away slowly. "Why do you want to join so badly?"_

 _James' gaze hardened. "I'm not an idiot. I've seen the oppression of these people. I've seen how the mightiest have fallen under Riddle's control. I may be young, but I know that if I don't stand up to him, no one will- and then where would we be? We'd be letting him win. Well, if there's one thing you need to know about me Dorcas Meadowes, this is it," James leaned forward, an untameable fire dancing in his eyes. "James Potter never gives in."_

 _Dorcas looked him up and down, trying to determine whether or not his words had been sincere. Finally, she cracked a smile. "Congratulations, James Potter. You're the newest member of the Order of the Phoenix. Next meeting, lucky you, is here in the my basement next Tuesday- come here after dark, near midnight. Don't let anyone follow you. I'll introduce you to the Order then. The password to get in will be three soft knocks, and the words 'I'm here for the dinner party'. No password, no entry. Got it?"_

 _James blinked. "Dinner party? Near midnight? That's ridiculous."_

 _Dorcas put her hands on her hips. "You think you can do better?"_

 _James gave her an incredulous look. "Of course I can."_

 _Dorcas roller her eyes. "Well, if all goes well at the next meeting,_ you _can choose the password."_

 _James grinned. "Excellent. See you Tuesday."_

 _Dorcas walked him to the door, looking pleased but exhausted. "Tuesday," she agreed. "Don't be late."_

 _James tipped his imaginary hat to her as he backed out the door. "Wouldn't dream of it."_

Now, James was heading to his first Order meeting. He was nervous. He was excited. He was-

Petrified.

He had reached Dorcas' front door. James wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. It had only just occurred to him that his future was in their hands. This had been his dream for so long- to stand up to Riddle and _make a difference_. If those people in there refused his help, or worse, laughed at him, then his dream would be crushed. He'd never be able to look at himself again. Or face his parents. Or go back home. He'd have to live on the streets, beg for food and shelter-

 _Woah, boy_.

James tended to get dramatic when he was nervous. Making a joke out of things masked his worry from others.

He'd need to remember to be serious now.

Well. More serious than usual.

Gulping, James knocked softly on the door three times.

He heard footsteps, then a voice said through the door, "Who's there?"

Recognizing the voice as Dorcas', James answered. "James Potter. I'm here for the dinner party."

The door opened. "Come on in," Dorcas beckoned him inside. Once he was in, she shut the door, locking it. "Follow me."

She didn't need to tell him twice. He trailed after her down a stairwell, through a door, and into a dimly lit room. In the middle if the room was a circular table, with people crowded around it.

All eyes were on James. Forcing down his fear, James stared right back defiantly, lifting his chin confidently, and shot them a cocky smile. "Hey."

Dorcas facepalmed. A heavily scarred man with a wooden leg and glass eye scowled. He looked at Dorcas and growled, "Who is this idiot?"

"Hey!" James protested. "I'm not a-"

"His name is James Potter," Dorcas interrupted. "He's the newest recruit."

A woman with long blonde hair laughed. "Really?"

Dorcas sighed. "Yes, Emmeline. Don't underestimate him." Dorcas paused, looking hesitant. Then she sighed. "He heard rumors about the Order and managed to track me down. He showed up at my house requesting membership. It was, admittedly, impressive."

The heavily scarred man frowned. "How'd you find Dorcas, boy?"

James sighed inwardly and recounted his tale. When he was finished, the scarred man said, "He seems smart enough. We could use someone like him."

A blonde haired man crossed his arms. "But we don't know anything about him, Mad-Eye."

Mad-Eye narrowed his- well, eye. "You think I don't know that, Caradoc? S'not like we'll be trusting him with our secrets just yet. But the truth of the matter is that we need all the members we can get. Our numbers are small, and we need allies. We can't win a war like this."

Caradoc's shoulders sagged. "Fine."

Mad-Eye turned to James. "You're in, boy. Don't let me down."

James nodded eagerly. "I won't," he promised. "I swear I won't."

Mad-Eye snorted, but didn't comment. He stuck out his hand. "Alastor Moody. Call me Moody or Mad-Eye."

James shook it heartily. "James Potter. Call me James or James."

Moody looked at him, unimpressed. "Potter it is, then."

James shrugged.

The woman named Emmeline stepped forward. "Emmeline Vance."

Caradoc introduced himself. "Caradoc Dearborn. You make any deer jokes, and I'll break your glasses."

James rolled his eyes. "You have no idea how often I get that threat."

One by one, the Order members came forward. Mary McDonald was a small, willowy woman with large black eyes and short brown hair. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were tall red-headed twins with broad shoulders. Elphias Doge was an older, tiny man, with bright blue eyes. Dedalus Diggle was also tiny, but very enthusiastic, whose most noticeable feature were his rather large dimples. Alice Longbottom was a pretty young woman with a round face, curly brown hair, and kind brown eyes. Then there was Sturgis Podmore, who was rather large with blonde hair and blue eyes. Benjy Fenwick was a happy-looking man about James' age with shaggy brown hair and lively blue eyes. Edgar Bones was tall and thin, with dark brown hair and eyes, with smart-looking spectacles. An elderly gruff-looking man with a large beard and blue eyes called himself Aberforth Dumbledore. His older brother, Albus Dumbledore, had half-moon spectacles and twinkling blue eyes. He was also the founder of the whole organization.

They welcomed him, some more than others, and James felt satisfied; he was finally making a difference.

He headed home after the meeting, not caring that he didn't have a mission yet. Mentally storing away the next meeting's information (next Monday at Mary's, password: two knocks and the words "James Potter, here to express my condolences to the lady of the house."), James walked briskly back home.

On the way, he knocked into someone. "I'm so sorry!" he gasped. "I wasn't paying attention-"

The man he had knocked over waved his concern aside, keeping his head down. "It's fine, my lord. I- I must hurry home, if you'll excuse me..."

He tried to skirt around James, but James grabbed his arm. _My lord_... He recognized James, then, as a Potter. "You don't need to call me that. James is fine."

The man glanced up, surprised, and James caught a flash of amber. "Right."

"What's your name?" James pressed.

The man snorted. "Not one you'd recognize."

"What are doing out so late?"

The man finally looked James in the eye, and James was startled to see the anger there.

"Some of us," the man growled. "Have to work to put food on the table, and if the streets are unsafe, we risk it. For us, it's either that, or starvation."

With those words, the man ripped his arm out of James' grasp and marched off, leaving James with a twinge of guilt.

"Stay safe," he called lamely after the man. He wasn't sure, but he was almost positive that he saw the man shake his head in exasperation.

James sighed and continued home. He began to think about what the man had said. The poor were probably taking the brunt of the war- it was very difficult to get a safe job nowadays, and many had resorted to enrolling in Riddle's army just to put food on the table.

What had the man said? _If the streets are unsafe, we risk it. For us, it's either that, or starvation_. If, perhaps, the poor had an alternative... could they get them on the Order's side instead of Riddle's? Riddle didn't care much for the poor, but if the Order became more public and showed that they cared for the lower class...

They'd have more numbers.

And even if they weren't experienced in war, James knew that desperate souls sometimes made the most powerful soldiers.

It was definitely something to think about.

But for now, he'd go home and sleep.

 **A/N: I know, I know- short chapter. I'm truly sorry for that. Next one should be longer. Also, I know Mary McDonald wasn't actually in the Order, but I like the whole Mary/Dorcas/Marlene friendship, so I stuck her in there. Also, Remus, Sirius, Marlene, and Frank haven't joined the Order yet.**

 **One more thing- I will tell you guys if the song that inspired the chapter has anything that might be unsuitable for younger readers. I think everyone is ok (don't you have to be thirteen to get an account?) but just in case, I'll let you know.** **Rent** **may not be ok for some people to listen to, but** **One Song Glory** **doesn't have anything bad in it. Tell me what you thought of this chapter. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey, y'all! How're you? Anyway, I was really excited to write this chapter (this one scene popped into my head and inspired this fic), so I hope it turned out okay. I know it's pretty soon to release a chapter, but this just kept coming.**

 **Just so you know- I love the LGBTQ+ community. I'm not a part of it myself, but I am a huge supporter. So, in here, when I'm talking about Riddle and his view on LGBTQ+, know that he's a bit like Hitler in the sense that he is very close-minded and controlling. If you are offended by anything in here, although I doubt you will be, I apologize, as that was not my intention. I also love all races/religions, so again- no offense was intended.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Dust and Ashes (The Great Comet)**

 **Chapter 4**

Sirius Black stared forlornly at his half-full glass of firewhiskey. He could already feel the effects of the alcohol working through his brain, and everything faded into a sort of blissful, yet empty, numbness.

Sirius frequented this bar. They didn't care how many drinks he had, so long as he paid. Everyone here was just as drunk as he was. Nobody asked questions, or looked at him disappointedly. It was a relief.

And no, Sirius was not hiding from his problems.

He was simply avoiding them.

He sighed, a buzzing in his ears. The light seemed too bright, but Sirius couldn't bring himself to leave. He knew that when he woke up tomorrow, he'd have a killer headache, but he didn't much care about the consequences at the moment.

Regulus.

Dead.

It had been two months.

Sirius still wasn't over it.

He was no fool. He knew his parents weren't good people, and that his brother had been far from sainthood himself. They were all major Riddle supporters, something Sirius had never approved of- he did not believe that the city needed to be "purified" of men and women who didn't fit the image of a perfect citizen. This included homosexuals, transgender men and women, even people with mixed nationalities or someone who had different beliefs than Riddle himself. Sirius believed that love was love, that everyone was entitled to their opinion and religion, and that when it came down to it, everyone bled the same blood, so why should they be treated any differently? His parents didn't see it that way, though. They disowned him for defying him, and they poisoned his little brother's mind. His parents- Walburga and Orion Black- ad his brother Regulus had been killed two months prior in a carriage accident, on their way to one of Riddle's supporters' meetings.

This was, of course, not Sirius' fault. That did not stop him from blaming himself, though.

If he had fought his parents more, tried harder to convince Regulus to see things his way, his little brother might be alive today.

Nothing could wash away that guilt.

The firewhiskey could help him forget it for a few hours, though.

The door to the pub opened, and Sirius, as always, glanced to see who had entered. He didn't want to run into anyone he knew tonight. He had been doing a stellar job avoiding his acquaintances. Normally, Sirius would turn away from whoever was at the door, as he didn't recognize them. He didn't recognize this newcomer, but he didn't look away- the man who had entered did _not_ look as though he belonged there. He was too nervous to be trying to get a drink there, and Sirius watched as the man asked to see the owner of the establishment.

Sirius looked him over. Shaggy brown hair that was in need of a cut, amber eyes, pale skin, and was too thin to be healthy.

Definitely _not_ here for a drink.

The man waited awkwardly by the bar, wringing his hands. Sirius caught his eye and beckoned him over. The man frowned slightly, but approached him.

Once he was within earshot, Sirius said, "What're you doing here? You don't look like you want a drink."

The man snorted softly. "That's because I _don't_ drink."

Sirius grinned. "Sorry to let you down, mate, but they don't exactly serve tea here."

The man sighed. "I know. I just- I'm in need of a job, and I'm trying to stay away from..." he trailed off, but Sirius knew.

"The factories?" He had heard of the horrors that went on there. Children and women forced to work long hours in dangerous situations, men forced into the most perilous of tasks. People had died, and lost limbs in the factories. He could understand why this man was trying to avoid them so desperately.

The man nodded. "Precisely."

Sirius cocked his head to the side. "Sorry if I offend, but you seem a little old to be searching for a job. Normally men get 'em when they're eighteen. You get fired from your last one?"

The man stiffened. "No."

When no explanation came, Sirius chuckled. "Mate, I don't bite. I don't spill secrets, either, even when I'm drunk. Otherwise, I'd spill too many of my own! Most folk come here to get something off their chest. You may not be interested in the alcohol interference, but you came here to do the same thing, whether you know it or not."

The man shrugged, looked around nervously, then leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I was just, er, released from prison."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "You don't seem the hardened criminal type."

The man shrugged again. "I didn't do much. Stole a loaf of bread."

Sirius waited for more, but none came. "What, that's it? Sorry mate, but if you're going to do time, you might as well do something memorable."

The man rolled his eyes. "Funnily enough, getting arrested wasn't my goal. I spent four years in the mines. You see why I need a job, even if it's just cleaning up after you lot?"

Sirius nodded, understanding the man's frustration. When his parents had disowned him, he had been in a similar situation. Although, he didn't have time in prison blemishing his record. "Harsh sentence. Let me guess, you needed the bread before you starved?"

"Before my family- and my friend's family- starved. It had always been just the four of us- me and my friend, and our mothers." The man seemed very downtrodden.

Sirius patted his arm. "Life is hard, mate. Sometimes it gets better. Sometimes it doesn't. We just have to decide what we're going to do about it."

The man stared at him for a moment. "For a drunk man, you sure are eloquent."

Sirius grinned. "I'm not too drunk yet. I'm Sirius. Sirius Black."

The man hesitated, fear flashing in his eyes. "Black... as in, 'the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'?"

Sirius winced. "You don't have to worry about them, mate. They are my family, but they disowned me for disagreeing with their beliefs. They died a while back, anyway. All of 'em."

The man's eyes widened. "I'm sorry."

Sirius barked out a bitter laugh. "Don't be. I don't even miss 'em. Well. 'Cept maybe for Regulus. He was just a kid, y'know?"

The man nodded slowly. "So, the Black family fortune... what happened to it? Did- did Riddle get it?"

Sirius shook his head. "Nah. I got it all. They forgot to remove me from the will."

The man nodded again. "Er- I'm Remus, by the way. Remus Lupin."

Sirius inclined his head to Remus. "Pleasure meeting you."

It looked as though something was bothering Remus. "So- if everyone comes here to get something off their chest, what did _you_ come here to say?"

Sirius took a swig of his drink. Damn. He should have seen that one coming. But he figured he should tell Remus, since Remus had opened up to him- he probably wouldn't remember this tomorrow morning, anyway.

"Relulus was my younger brother. He... he was never as much of a Riddle fanatic as my parents, but he never agreed with my point of view, either. Regulus was a follower, you see. I think that if I had tried harder to get him on my side, if I had fought harder to get him to see sense, then maybe he wouldn't have been in that carriage at that time. Maybe he'd still be alive."

Sirius was alarmed to find that his face was slightly damp, and quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Remus frowned. "Your brother made his choice, Sirius. He didn't listen to you, he listened to your parents. That's not your fault. When people make a decision, it's nearly impossible to change their mind."

"Yeah, well," Sirius drained the rest of his glass and called for another one. "Now I can drown my sorrows in whiskey. No coherent thoughts, no problems."

Remus frowned. "So, that's it? You couldn't save your brother, so you're going to sit here for the rest of your life, _drinking?_ Until what? You kill yourself drinking too much alcohol? You'll just waste the time you have left, trying to forget your regrets? Blowing all your money on whiskey when people are starving in the streets? When _people like_ _me_ have to resort to _stealing_ in order to survive?"

Sirius scowled. "What, you want a few galleons? All you have to do is ask."

Remus looked livid. " _I don't want your money!_ Listen," he leaned towards Sirius. "I can't do anything to help this world. I don't have the money, the resources, or the connections. _But you do_. You can do something, you can save people- like you couldn't save your brother. If you put your money to good use, you can help oppose Riddle. You can do _something_. And I promise you, fighting for good is much more satisfying than sitting here drinking. Don't throw this opportunity away just because life dealt you a bad card. Life can throw you a lifeline too, you just have to be strong enough to take it."

With those words, Remus Lupin stood up and walked away, to the owner of the pub, trying to secure a job. Sirius watched him go, and wondered if there was some truth to the other man's words.

Sirius took another swallow of his drink.

* * *

If Sirius hadn't been drunk before, he certainly was now.

It had been several hours since Remus had been turned down for the job, probably because he didn't look like he could handle drunk men. But after his little outburst, Sirius knew that there was more fight in that man than he let on.

Now, deep down, Sirius knew that Remus was right. It was selfish to waste his fortune like this, and Remus had a right to be angry- he had, after all, been sent to prison for stealing food he desperately needed. Sirius understood his outrage.

Yet another guilt to drown in whiskey.

Getting drunk, Sirius knew, was not a good way to deal with your problems. In fact, it only presented new ones. Was Remus right? Was this how he'd die- from alcohol overconsumption? Would he throw his life away, unwilling to look past the sorrows that enfolded him?

Then, somewhere in the back of his numb mind, a tiny question floated up to the surface. _Had he lived a worthwhile life?_

Had he been a good person? Or had he just neglected to do terrible things? Had he taken too much for granted? Had he turned a blind eye to those who suffered, or turned away from those who needed him most?

If the answer to those questions was _yes,_ then why was he still here?

What was he meant to do? Why had he been the only Black spared?

If he died on the battlefield, would he be remembered?

Maybe.

If he sat here drinking to death, would anyone remember him?

No.

It would be so easy to sit here, forgetting the world outside, drinking himself into oblivion. It would be so painful to get up and fight back. It would be so easy to hide away. It would be so easy to live in fear.

Sirius sat up straighter. He had done that. He had taken the easy way out, and Regulus was _dead_.

And he was no coward.

Easy! It would be _easy-_ yes, it would, but would it be _worth it?_ All the things he could have done, but he never had the nerve to do it- that ended now.

Fine. He hadn't done anything worthwhile. A little voice in his head was saying, " _But what can you do now?"_

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

So that was it. He was ready to die. Death did not scare him. Dying before he had served his purpose- that terrified him.

But he hadn't found a purpose. There was nothing left within him- except doubt. Except Remus' words.

If he was ready to go, why was a storm of emotion raging within his drunken self? If he was ready to leave, to be forgotten, why did he want to grasp the things he'd never been able to reach- contentment, satisfaction, purpose, the feeling that he was needed- that somewhere out there, someone couldn't get on without him. He wanted friends who were more like brothers. He _wanted_ a reason to fight.

He wasn't ready to die.

He was ready to finally _live_.

He stood up, swaying, and made his way out of the pub. He was sick in the bushes.

He'd sleep off this alcohol. Then he'd find a way to destroy Riddle- if it weren't for Riddle, Regulus would still be alive.

He began running. He didn't know where to. All he knew was that he was alive because he had what Remus didn't.

Money.

Resources.

Connections.

And he would use them.

It was time to make his parents roll in their graves.

A smile snuck onto his face.

He was good at doing what his parents disapproved of.

* * *

The next morning, Sirius was suffering from one of the worst hangovers he'd ever experienced, which was saying something.

Nevertheless, Sirius walked out of his house, braving the bright morning light, and began to stroll aimlessly, hoping that some sort of inspiration would strike.

"Excuse, me sir- are you Mr. Sirius Black?"

Sirius turned to see a man with untidy black hair, hazel eyes, and glasses walking towards him.

Sirius flipped his own long ebony hair over his shoulder, surveying the newcomer with his grey eyes. "Depends on who's looking."

The man stuck out his hand. "Lord James Potter."

Sirius shook it firmly. "Lord Sirius Black."

James cleared his throat. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Can we talk somewhere private?"

Sirius nodded. "Follow me."

Sirius led James to his house, then bolted the door behind him. Sirius was no fool. He knew the streets had ears. And the walls- which was why he had fired the staff.

Sirius brought James into the sitting room, then crossed his arms as James sat down. "What did you need?"

James took a deep breath. "Lord Black-"

"Sirius. Call me 'Lord' or 'Black' and I'm kicking you out."

James grinned. "Understood. Anyway, Sirius, I apologize if this sounds insensitive, but I must know- you were disowned because you didn't agree with your parents, who followed Riddle?"

Sirius scowled. "Yes. Any more personal questions?"

James didn't hesitate. "Yes. You're aware that you're high on Riddle's list of enemies?"

Sirius shrugged. "I figured. If you're one of his cronies, then you should know- I'm not afraid of what he could do to me. Unlike him, I'm not afraid to die."

James grinned. "I'm not one of his men, but that's good to know." He lowered his voice. "I recently joined a group called the Order of the Phoenix. Have you heard of it?"

Sirius shook his head.

James explained. "It's a secret organization that was formed in the hope that we can defeat Riddle. I heard about your estrangement from your family, and knew that the Blacks were very influential... I've come to ask, will you join?"

Sirius was taken aback. This man- this stranger- was inviting his to join a very secret, very _dangerous_ organization, trusting him not to tell the authorities.

Sirius liked him immediately.

Should he join? That was the question. It would be perilous. It could lead to disaster, even public execution. But he didn't fear death. Joining would mean a life of secrets. He was a good liar. His brother had died on Riddle's side. Should he really join the people that Riddle was actively seeking out?

He wanted a purpose.

Remus had said that he had to take the lifeline life threw him.

Sirius Orion Black reached through the troubled waters that represented his warring emotions, and seized the lifeline James Potter had thrown him. He was trusting James to pull him to safety. And if he drowned on the way out, then he drowned knowing that he had fought to the end. What better way to go?

"Count me in."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey, y'all! What's up? Have a good Christmas? Please remember when you are reviewing my fics that criticism is welcome! But if you are catching a typo, please just PM me. :) Thanks.**

 **IMPORTANT: If you are offended by any sort of discrimination on Riddle's part- that was not my intention. Riddle in this fic is a very close-minded person, and the Order is fighting this discrimination and oppression. In no way do I share Riddle's views.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **As Long As You're Mine (Wicked)**

 **Chapter 5**

Frank Longbottom was not a secretive man. This did not mean that he was untrustworthy- on the contrary, he was known for his ability to keep a secret. Many folk came to him if they needed to get something off their chest. He was a patient listener, and a unbiased one at that. So, Frank held many secrets.

He just didn't _own_ any of them.

So when his wife, Alice Longbottom, came to him one afternoon when Remus was out and Augusta taking a stroll, Frank was not prepared for what she said.

"Frank, I've been keeping something from you."

Oh dear.

Alice sat next to him at their rickety kitchen table. She was wringing her hands, and she avoided looking her husband directly in the eye. "I- I meant to tell you sooner, but I didn't want to endanger you, or drag you into it. But, well, the war's escalating, and I know that we need to be able to trust each other- and I can't be worthy of your trust when I've neglected to tell you for so long. I just- I'm sorry, and I-"

Frank reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. "Alice. It's alright. You can tell me anything. I don't mind that you've kept something from me- you're coming to me now, aren't you? Know that I love you, and that's all that matters."

Alice drew in a shaky breath and nodded. "I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Silence.

Frank was dimly aware that his jaw was hanging open.

Alice.

Order of the Phoenix.

Danger. Danger, danger, danger.

His wife. In the Order. In danger.

And he was just _gaping_ at her, damn it.

"Frank?"

That snapped him out of it. His wife sounded so scared, scared of how _he'd_ react.

Without removing his hand from hers, he asked, "How long?"

"About... a month before we were married." Alice murmured.

Well, there was that, at least.

Frank squeezed her hand. "Okay."

Her head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

He smiled tiredly. "Okay. You're a part of a secret, illegal organization whose main goal is to dethrone the tyrant of our world. I can deal with that."

Alice blinked at him. "You're not angry?"

Frank shook his head. "Alice, I love you. I'm sorry you felt like you had to keep this a secret from me, but please know that as long as I have you... I'm happy."

Alice threw herself at him, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Frank!" she sobbed. "I was so afraid you'd hate me for not telling you!"

Frank held her tight, marvelling even after a year that this amazing woman was _his_ wife. "Alice. I could never hate you. Love is eternal. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have you, and now that we're together... Well, a tiny secret isn't going to ruin that, I promise."

Alice buried her face in his shirt. "I don't deserve to have someone as wonderful as you."

Frank pulled away and cupped her face in his hands. "Are you kidding? Alice, you're changing the world. I'm not brave enough to do what you're doing- put my life on the line for people I've never met. You're one of the kindest people on the planet. I'm so amazed that I even know you, much less am married to you. I thank my lucky stars every day that you are in my life."

Alice kissed his cheek. "Oh, Frank. You don't give yourself enough credit. You're an amazing man, and I'm so glad I met you. I can't think of anyone I'd rather love."

Frank leaned back in his chair. He glanced at his wife a bit nervously. "So... what is this going to change?"

Alice blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. "I don't know, Frank." she answered honestly. "I mean, working for the Order, there's always a chance that I..."

She trailed off, but Frank knew what had been unsaid. "A chance that you won't come back." he finished grimly.

Alice closed her eyes. "I- I know that this isn't how you want to live. But I can't give this up. I can't just sit here while other people fight. I need to do something, to take control of this situation- Riddle can't be allowed free reign. He just _can't_."

Frank felt sick. _I can't just sit here while other people fight_. That's exactly what he was doing. What he had encouraged Remus to do.

And now his wife was one of those _other people_.

Frank glanced away from her, unable to look at Alice in that moment. His emotions were at war. He'd been at odds with himself about how involved in the war he wanted to get for years. On one hand, he wanted to fight like Alice and the Order were doing. On the other hand, he wanted to keep his family safe, and the best way to do that was to keep them out of the battle.

Right?

Before, when he was younger, he hadn't taken a larger role in this war because of his mother, Hope, and Remus. He wanted to protect them, and that meant putting all his energy into bringing bread home. But then Remus had been arrested, and Frank fooled himself into thinking that if not for his mother and Hope, he'd be playing an active part in this war. He had been, after all, their only source of income. Then he had met Alice. Now he was living for _her,_ keeping an eye out for her. When Hope died, the nagging voice in the back of his mind had grown louder than ever. _You can't just sit here. Hope is_ dead! _She's dead, and Remus will be devastated. You want to protect your own mother? Fight for her. Fight_ against _this injustice!_ But he hadn't listened to himself, fooling himself into taking the safe road once more.

Once he and Alice had been wed, he had convinced himself that staying out of the war was the best way to keep his family safe from it.

Obviously, Alice had had other ideas.

Did that make him a coward? Did that make him selfish? He had practically begged Remus not to take a larger part in the war, even after life had been so cruel to him. For the first time, Frank understood where his friend was coming from. Riddle had taken Remus' already fragile life and had shattered it. Before, Remus' status, age, and financial income had kept him from succeeding in life. Now, when most of those things could have been altered, he had an unjust criminal record holding him back. He had wanted to protect others in a similar position- he had wanted to build a world where taxes didn't force young boys to steal for survival. Riddle was squeezing the life out of the lower class. Maybe he wasn't actively seeking them out and targeting them, but forcing unfair taxes and laws upon them was slowly taking its toll.

And his wife was fighting this monster.

Frank wasn't like some men. He didn't tell Alice what she was allowed to do. He didn't consider her his property. But he was afraid for her.

He was also incredibly proud of her.

It was the strangest thing. He was terrified for her, but at the same time, he was almost giddy that _his wife_ was doing something so amazing.

Alice appeared worried. "Frank?"

He'd been silent too long. "Alice. I love you. I just need time to sort things out in my head. But I support you, whatever you do, one hundred percent."

Alice nodded, still a bit unsure, but relieved. "I understand, Frank. Thank you."

Frank leaned forward and kissed her deeply. "Anything for you, love."

* * *

Throughout the day, Frank thought about Alice. She was never far from his mind. He loved her. He knew that. He never wanted to fall out of love with her. But knew that things would be difficult. They were living two different lives. Sure, maybe they had always been, but know that Frank was aware of the chasm separating them, it seemed so much larger.

Did he really know Alice? He thought he did. But if she had been able to keep something this big from him, what else might she be hiding?

He shook his head at himself. Alice had come to him on her own, admitting what she had kept a secret from him. He didn't find out from someone else, or on his own- she trusted him enough to tell him. There wasn't any reason why he shouldn't show her the same trust.

Frank recalled the day he had met Alice. At the time, they had both been working down at the docks- he as a fisherman, she as a saleswoman. Her soft gaze and kind personality was what had drawn him to her initially. As he got to know her better, he became entranced by her rough hands and gentle smile. Her beauty definitely didn't hurt.

Those weeks, he had felt as though he was on top of the world. Nothing could touch him. He was invincible. His mother had been giving him strange looks for a while- he knew that his change of behavior had baffled her. But he didn't care. There was only one thought going through his head: _Alice_.

Then everything came crashing down.

He had realized that he loved her. This horrified him. Remus was rotting in prison, and he dared to fall in love? To forget his brother? To find happiness when Remus had sacrificed his so selflessly?

Frank thought that he didn't deserve happiness.

But Alice kept invading his thoughts. He couldn't avoid her at work, and she knew that something was wrong with him, but she didn't pry. She just gently assured him in that quiet way of hers that she wouldn't go anywhere.

Frank had had many sleepless nights in those days, trying to figure out the right thing to do. In the end, he came to the conclusion that Remus had saved him so he could keep living, not so that he could be guilt ridden the rest of his life. He had nervously approached Alice and tentatively asked her if he could court her. She had responded so enthusiastically, that Frank couldn't help but grin when remembering it.

He had been so scared of loving her, but now he was a better man for it. Now he was faced with another decision: Continue as though their conversation never happened, join her in her fight, or let this drive them apart.

Well. He knew which one he wasn't going to choose.

So, ignore or join? Ignore or join? He wasn't sure. He wasn't used to putting himself in the line of fire. He was used to sticking to the shadows. If they didn't notice you, then they couldn't hurt you.

But if you stayed in the shadows, then you forced someone else into the light.

Perhaps it was time of step out of the shadows and fight for what he wanted. Fight for his mother. Fight for Remus.

Fight for Alice.

But perhaps, that was a decision for another night.

* * *

The next morning, Frank woke up to Alice's beautiful face. He brushed the hair from her eyes. She smiled in her sleep.

Frank laid there in bed for a while, just taking his wife in. He was content. There was nothing he wanted more than to be with her. As long as he had Alice, he could do anything.

Frank rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Alice. He tucked the blankets of their bed tighter around her- the days were growing colder, and he didn't want her to be chilled when she awoke.

He made breakfast for himself and left some for Augusta, Remus, and Alice. Then he headed off to work.

He returned late in the evening. He found Alice at the kitchen table looking pale and nervous. Remus had one of her hands clasped in his own, patting it awkwardly. Augusta was busy making dinner, but she was frowning.

Frank hung his coat up on the wall. "Something wrong?"

Remus stood up, a comforting hand on Alice's shoulder. "Everything's fine, Frank. Alice just has something she'd like to talk to you about. Augusta and I will be in the next room, if you need us."

He and Frank's mother exited the kitchen, and Frank sat down beside Alice, wondering if there was another secret after all. He hadn't told his mother or Remus that she was an Order member- he would let her do that. But something was off, and Frank found himself dreading her answer.

Alice took a deep breath. "I went to the doctor today," she began.

Frank's forehead creased in worry. "Are you feeling alright?"

Alice smiled tiredly. "Well, I've been feeling a bit off lately, a bit sick. But I thought I was just under the weather. However, something happened recently that made me suspect something else was up, so I set up an appointment with Madame Pomfrey. You know her? She's very good. But, well, she confirmed my suspicions, and, er, Frank, I-" she bit her lip.

Frank grasped her hands. They were clammy. "Alice. You know you can tell me anything."

Alice giggled. She actually _giggled_. Her eyes shone, and she suddenly didn't appear tired anymore. She looked _happy_. "Frank, I'm pregnant."

Frank blinked. "Sorry, what?"

Alice giggled again. "Pregnant. Frank, we're going to be parents."

Frank's eyes bugged out as her words slowly sank in. "Oh, Merlin."

His gaze fell in his wife's abdomen- sure, it was flat now, but how long until it got round? There was a life in there. A child. His child. A baby. His son or daughter.

They were bringing an innocent child into a broken world.

He was so excited.

But he was so bloody terrified.

He grinned at Alice. "As long as we do it together."

Her beaming face told him that he had said the right thing.

Then why was he so unsure?

That was easy enough to answer. He didn't want to bring a child into a war zone. He didn't want his pregnant wife on the battlefield. He didn't want to risk his wife _and_ child. He couldn't lose them both.

But he couldn't help but be elated by the fact that he'd be a father. He had always wanted to be one. Now that dream was coming true. He knew, deep down, that he'd do anything to protect his family. He just had to figure out if joining the Order was worth it.

But not right now. Right now, he'd help Alice through this pregnancy.

He had a feeling that they were both in for a rough nine months.

* * *

Frank sat next to Remus on the porch that evening.

Remus offered him a small smile. "Congratulations."

Frank felt himself grin. "I still can't believe it. This feels like a dream, like I'll wake up soon."

Remus nodded. "It'll take a few days for the news to completely sink in. Then the euphoria will set in, and you'll be unable to stop grinning for a month. Maybe more."

Frank laughed with Remus, but then felt his smile fade. "Do you think... do you think that it's okay? That we're bringing a child into the world, I mean." He swallowed. "I feel so... conflicted about it."

Remus frowned. "You mean, am I jealous? Or do you mean, are you hurting your child by bringing them here now?"

Frank blinked. He hadn't even considered the first one. "Both, I guess."

Remus smiled again. "I'm not jealous. I'm happy for the both of you. I'm not ready to think about my own family, just yet. As for the other thing," Remus glanced at his friend. "Frank, this world may not be an ideal one, but you can't just wait around for it to end before you try- you may lose your chance if you do that. Besides, a little happiness gives everyone hope. And, this kid will give you something to fight for. Something to keep you going when times are hard. If I learned anything in the mines, it's that the people who had something to return to lasted longer than the people who didn't."

Frank relaxed. His friend was right. He couldn't live in fear, because then he'd be wasting a million opportunities. He'd miss out on life.

It made him wonder, though. Was joining the Order another opportunity that his fear was keeping from seizing?

What should he do? Was having two parents in the Order going to make the world more dangerous for his child? Or would he be able to better protect Alice and his child if he was around to fight with the Order?

It was all so confusing.

"Remus," he asked hesitantly. "When you're faced with a difficult choice, how do you come up with a decision?"

Remus smiled. "I ask someone to ask me the question I need an answer to, and the first thing that pops into my head is my decision. The first thing you think of when asked a difficult question is usually you're answer. Your head just argues with itself until you're at odds with yourself. I find that my method works faster." Remus frowned at himself. "Sorry. That didn't make much sense."

Frank laughed. "I think I got the gist of it." He paused. "So. Remus, ask me if I should stay or not."

Remus tilted his head, but didn't question his friend. "Frank, should you stay, or not?"

"Not." Frank said immediately. He grinned. "Thanks, mate."

Remus shook his head. "No trouble. Tell me about it when you're ready, yeah?"

Frank agreed.

 **A/N: I know it's short, but... yeah. So, I know that Neville and Harry are only a day apart, but I did it this way so that the story would work. Don't worry, Neville's probably only going to be a few months older. Also, please tell me if you think I should up the rating- I won't into detail about the pregnancy or anything, but if you feel something would be better suited for T, please PM me. Don't hold back.**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for chapter six. Once again, if you feel the rating should change to T, then please PM me. Please speak up. I don't think there will be anything in here that goes beyond what's in Harry Potter, so if you can read that you should be good. But if you disagree, say something.**

 **Now, onto chapter six! By the way, this will NOT be Sirius/Marlene. Sorry.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Helpless (Hamilton)**

 **Chapter 6**

James Potter was very rarely left speechless. In fact, it had only happened once in his life.

This was that moment.

It was his fifth Order meeting, and Sirius' third. The two men had quickly become best friends, and were practically inseparable. This Order meeting was being held in Sirius' home, and would most likely become a frequent meeting place from there on out.

When Dorcas Meadowes swept in, everyone stopped what they were doing for a moment. That was the kind of effect Dorcas had in people. She may be small, but there was an air about her that demanded your attention.

"I've brought two new members," Dorcas announced.

Moody threw his hands up in the air. "Why does everyone keep bringing new people here? We might as well go public!"

Dumbledore smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling. "Now, Alastor, the more the merrier, as they say."

Dorcas ignored Mad-Eye and beckoned her guests in. "Lady Marlene McKinnon and her serving girl, Lily Evans."

Sirius groaned. "Not McKinnon!"

A dark-haired woman came in and heard Sirius. She groaned. "Not Black!"

They two of them glared at each other, but James was looking at the redhead beside the dark haired woman.

It was love at first sight.

He had always thought that such a thing was myth, a pretty story for young boys and girls at bedtime.

But he took one look at those beautiful emerald eyes and knew the truth.

He was in love. Head over heels in irreversible love.

James marched confidently over to the two women. The taller of the two had dark hair and brown eyes that were lined with thick black lashes. She had pale skin and red lips.

James didn't spare her a glance.

He walked right up to the young woman who was dressed in a maid's garb, with long red hair tied back in the signature lower class style. Bright green eyes looked at him with surprise as he approached her. She had gentle features and a stray strand of hair had escaped her bun, curling ever so slightly against her chin. James' heart felt as though it would burst from his chest.

He bowed low, taking her calloused hand in his, kissing the back of it softly. "My lady."

She stared at him. "Sir, I am not Lady Marlene."

Ah, the choir of angels sing. He grinned mischievously up at her. "I know."

Her face flushed, but James just kept grinning like the lovestruck fool that he was. "Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Miss Evans. I'm James. James Potter."

She swallowed. " _Lord_ James Potter?"

James straightened and put his thumbs in his jacket pockets. "There are no titles here, Miss Evans. Everyone here is of the same social standing. James is fine."

"Right then," Lily said cooly. "So you won't mind when I tell you that I'm not so easily charmed?"

She stalked off, leaving James grinning dopily behind her.

Sirius leaned over to him. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm pretty sure that that woman means it. Stay away."

James grinned at him. "You can't help who you fall in love with," he whispered back.

Sirius stared at him. "What do you mean, _love?_ You only just met- no, you only just _saw_ the woman three seconds ago. And she _rejected_ you."

James clapped Sirius on the shoulder. "Ah, my dear friend. Love's a battle. And, like every battle, I intend to win." James glanced at Lily, who was hovering by Marlene. "Besides, I'm well on my way to winning her heart already. I can feel it."

"You're well on your way to getting slapped. I can feel it." Sirius shot back.

James waved his concern aside. "Nah. She'll love me. I just have to show her I'm serious."

Sirius sighed. "Mate, it's your funeral. And I'm not attending if you die at the hands of an angry Lily Evans."

James clucked his tongue. "Have faith, my friend."

James walked back over to the table where the rest of the Order was sitting, leaving an exasperated Sirius behind him.

Sirius rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

James slid up next to Lily after the meeting. "Shall I walk you home? THe streets are dangerous alone."

Lily shot him a glare. "I can take care of myself."

James shrugged, falling in step beside her. "Doesn't mean you have to."

Lily grit her teeth. "Just because I'm a woman, doesn't mean that I'm helpless."

James barked out a laugh. "I don't think that! My mother's one of the most frightening people on the planet- I often say that if she were to chastise Riddle, we wouldn't even need the Order. She'd scare him into surrendering. So no. I'm not offering because you're a woman. I have no doubts about your ability to defend yourself."

Lily smirked. "So, you'll agree when I say that I don't need to be walked home."

James looked sideways at her. "You don't want the company?"

Lily shook her head. "Nope."

"The streets are dangerous. Even for such an intimidating and independent woman such as yourself."

Lily's eyes darkened. "The lower class can handle itself. Don't get all high and mighty on me now, _my lord_. You've never cared about the poor risking the streets alone after dark before."

A pang of guilt passed through James as he remembered that man's words from so long ago. _If the streets are unsafe, we risk it. For us, it's either that, or starvation_. "I hadn't met you, before."

Lily finally turned to face him. She looked so angry. "You just don't get it, do you? I don't want special treatment. I am no different than anyone else in my position- in fact, I'm better off than a lot of people! Did you know, a man bumped into me a while ago and I dropped the laundry I was carrying? All of it, ruined. He knew how important a paying job is for people like us nowadays, and he started apologizing profusely. He dug around in his pockets, and pulled out a few knuts for me to take, to pay for the damage- because he thought that the cost would be taken out of my paycheck. And if I had worked for anyone but Lady Marlene, it would have been!"

James frowned. "He only offered you a few knuts? That's not enough-"

Lily's eyes grew dark. She jabbed her finger in his chest. "You know what he did, James Potter? He offered me _everything he had!"_

James swallowed. But Lily wasn't finished. "He offered me all the money he had, because he was scared that he had cost me my job. He didn't have one. At all. Those knuts were the only thing he had to his name, and he offered them to me. So, no. I _don't_ want you to walk me home and to treat me like I'm anything other than a maid. Because I am _proud_ of who I am, and I don't want to pretend to be better than that man! I am a poor woman. I am okay with that. I will never be rich. I'm okay with that. I am better off than most people I have met. _I am okay with that_. I am no more than this, no less. And I don't want you to treat me like I'm anything I'm not. So goodnight."

With that, she spun around on her heel, and marched off into the night.

Sirius came up from behind him. "Are you alright?"

James gulped. "I wasn't trying to-"

"I know, mate," Sirius murmured. "But she's used to being treated like an inferior. She's used to seeing people like us ignore the people she tries to help- like the man she was telling you about."

James looked at Sirius' shoes. "Why _was_ she telling me that?"

Sirius sighed. "I don't know women, mate. My guess? She'll consider taking you seriously once she knows that you care about the lowest of society- that you aren't just speaking pretty words to get her to like you. That man was prepared to give her all the money he had to his name. She wants you to be that selfless."

James bit his lip. "I don't think I _am_ that selfless."

Sirius shrugged. "Neither am I. But you can be _more_ selfless than you are now, can't you?"

James squared his shoulders. "Yeah. I can."

Sirius patted his shoulder. "There you go, mate. Want to come back inside and play cards?"

James nodded. "Sure thing."

* * *

It was another week before he saw her again.

This time, it wasn't at an Order meeting- he saw her in the street. He was about to walk over to her, but then saw that she was talking to someone- the man who had yelled at James after his first Order meeting.

James was making more enemies than friends these days, it seemed.

James considered walking over to them and saying hi. But then he figured that that may be too suspicious- a nobleman suddenly speaking to a woman of the lower class that he had never had any contact with before. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to Lily.

He kept walking.

* * *

Her red hair kept him up at night. Her green eyes invaded his thoughts in his waking hours. Her kind smile (never directed at him) made him smile dreamily. He wasn't eating as much, or talking as much. She was his every thought, everything he did was for her.

Yet she still hated him.

He'd be the first to admit he was obsessed. He'd be the last to admit that it was hopeless.

He knew where she lived now- she had finally given in the last Order meeting, and allowed him to walk her home. He tried to pretend that this was because she was beginning to like him, and not because someone had been murdered after midnight the previous week.

Now he found excuses to walk through her neighborhood every week.

Sirius told him he had a problem.

He didn't deny it.

Yet, what he had seen that day had discouraged him.

His beautiful Lily Evans. Talking and laughing with greasy-haired, big-nosed, evil Severus Snape. Or, as James prefered to call him, Snivellus.

Snape was not a noble. He was not a member of the lower class. He was safe in the middle.

But he was a Death Eater wannabe, an admirer of Riddle.

It made James' blood boil to think that a man like Snape was able to make Lily laugh, while James couldn't even _talk_ to her.

He was watching them now.

"Oh, Sev," Lily laughed. "I'm so glad you're here."

Snape smiled, leaning back on the blanket they were sitting on. "Me too, Lily. I've missed you, but it's been a busy week."

Lily frowned slightly. "Sev, about that... why do you hang around them?"

Snape clenched his hands into fists. James listened carefully. "I don't know what you mean, Lily."

Lily sat up, her hair half-out of its usual knot. The two of them were sitting on a blanket in a secluded field in the middle of a forest surrounding Hogsmeade. James was spying on them in the bushes.

"Yes, you do, Severus. Mulciber, Avery- they're evil, Sev. None of my other friends can understand why I hang out with you."

Snape glowered. It made him look even uglier, if that was possible, James thought. "Then why do you?"

Lily leaned forward, putting a hand over Snape's. "Because I believe that you are more than what they think you are, Sev. I believe you're better than what they're trying to turn you into. Leave Riddle's service. Whatever promises he's made you- he won't keep them, Sev."

Snape looked down at their joined hands. "He promised me that I would have a big house, a secure job... a safe place to live in." Snape looked up into Lily's green eyes. "He promised me that he would spare _you_."

Lily blinked, shocked. James leaned forward. "What?"

Snape grasped her hand tightly in his. "Riddle won't be happy with the Order- don't look at me like that, Lily, I know you've heard of them. Lady Marlene McKinnon is a suspect- which means that everyone who works under her is a suspect- including you."

As Lily's horrified look, Snape quickly added, "But don't worry, I vouched for you. He won't hurt you."

Lily's breathing was shallow. "What about everyone else?"

Snape looked at her curiously. "What about them? You're safe."

"Severus!" shouted Lily, making James and Snape jump. "Those people are innocent!"

Snape's face turned dark. "So then Riddle won't hurt them." He turned to Lily. "Lily... we could really use someone like you in our cause. Determined, loyal-"

Lily threw herself away from him. "Did you just- did you just ask me to join Riddle's forces?" she asked in disbelief.

Snape immediately tried to backtrack. "I-"

Lily's eyes grew hard and angry. "If you seriously thought that I'd consider that, then you obviously don't know me very well."

Snape threw his hands up in the air. "I'm trying to keep you safe! You can't take care of yourself in this world!"

Lily's eyes burned like hot coals. "I am not helpless."

Snape grew angry. "You think you stand a chance against Riddle's men?"

Lily was trembling with rage. "You just asked me to join!"

"To keep you out of his line of fire!" Snape shouted.

Lily's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "It's not my job to stand at your side looking pretty."

Snape glared. "It's not my job to change who I am because you _believe in me_."

Lily stood up. "Don't come after me."

Snape stood too, fear in his eyes. "Lily-"

"Leave me alone."

"I didn't mean it-"

"You did. Just like everyone warned me. But I didn't listen. Get one thing through your disgusting Death Eater head." She turned to him. "I will never be like you. I am not a coward that people can push around. I don't need to put people down to feel good about myself! I don't think myself above others." Lily grabbed Snape's coat, leaning in close so that their noses were almost touching. "I would rather die than sink to your level. I thought I could save you from this, but I was obviously too late."

She stalked off, and James knew enough to leave her alone for a while. Snape looked so lost and crushed that James almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

* * *

The next Order meeting, Lily mentioned that she had reason to suspect that Marlene was in danger of being found out. James gave no indication that he had heard of this before. It was decided that Marlene would skip the next few meetings, and that Lily would bring her news of what was going on.

After the meeting, James approached Lily. "All right, Evans?"

She didn't look at him. "I'm fine, thank you."

He nodded. "You seem upset."

"I said I was-"

"-fine, I know. But that doesn't mean I can't worry about you."

Lily glanced at him. "Why _do_ you worry about me?"

James smiled. "You're a good person, Evans. There aren't many of those left in the world. I guess I can't help but feel drawn to that."

Lily's brow creased. "I haven't been very good to you."

James shrugged. "I made a bad first impression. You're forgiven if I am."

A small smile played on Lily's lips. "Then you're forgiven."

James brightened. "Really?"

Lily laughed. "Yes."

James grinned, and Lily added, "No more following me, please."

James cringed. "Yeah... that was a personal low."

Lily looked at him. "I know you heard my conversation with Severus."

James froze. Guilt flashed through him, hating himself just a little bit for being such a nosy idiot. "I did."

Lily glanced at him. "Probably not what you were expecting to hear."

"No," James admitted. "I thought he'd propose to you, or something."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "I've only ever liked him as a friend. Do you really think he'd have done that?"

James shrugged. "Dunno. I'm pretty sure he wanted more than friendship, though."

Lily was silent for a moment, before asking, "Are you glad that he ruined our friendship?"

James debated how to answer. The truth was that, yes, he was glad Snape was no longer in the picture. But the truth made him sound like a horribly selfish person. But did he really want to lie? Which would Lily prefer?

"Yes," he answered honestly. "I mean- I'm not glad that he said those things to you. But I am glad that you don't want to be around him anymore."

Lily tilted her head to the side. "Why?"

James flushed. "I..."

Lily was looking at him expectantly.

James sighed. He'd throw his pride away if it made her happy. "I was jealous of the time he spent with you," he admitted. "I've heard of him, and... I couldn't believe that you'd talk to him, but not me."

Lily smirked. "He made a good first impression."

James shrugged. "Never said I wasn't cocky."

"Arrogant," Lily corrected.

"That, too."

Lily sighed, and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "You're making a better impression now. Would you... like to walk with me?"

James grinned. "Sure thing, Miss Evans." He hesitated. "You're not made about my spying on you?"

Lily looked at him like he was crazy. "Oh, I'm furious that you were spying on me," she informed him. "But I'm giving you another chance. Don't blow it."

"I'll try not to," James said sincerely.

Lily smirked. "Admitting that you were jealous of Severus was pretty hard for you, wasn't it?"

James groaned. "It was torture. It will haunt me till my dying day. I'm scarred for life. I don't think I can survive that a second time."

Lily laughed. "You're very prideful, aren't you?"

James shrugged once more. "Guilty as charged."

They reached Lily's house a few minutes later. Lily turned to face him.

"So, Potter. Since you're no longer an arrogant toerag, I suppose you've been promoted to _tolerable acquaintance_."

James grinned. "I can live with that for now. And before we know it, I'll be promoted to _friend_. Or, maybe even, _more than friend_."

As he walked away, he could have sworn he heard Lily murmur, " _That's what I'm afraid of."_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back with a new chapter. *Wild applause* So, thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed this story. You guys keep me going and help me past my writers block. Siriusly, I love you guys.**

 **So, I know that so far, not a lot's happened except for character introduction. That will end soon, I promise. Thanks for sticking with it this far. And Happy New Year!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Satisfied (Hamilton)**

 **Chapter 7**

The cold wind blew a few dead leaves down the abandoned streets of Hogsmeade. One lone figure walked swiftly down the dirt roads, his black cloak billowing out behind him.

Severus Snape.

Unlike most, Snape did not have to fear the dark. He was protected by the Dark Mark imprinted on his left forearm.

Lily, however, was not.

Snape did not understand her outrage. He knew that she did not agree with Riddle's views, but he could not fathom the reason as to why she would let her discomfort keep her from ensuring her safety. That's what he was trying to do. Protect her, keep her off Riddle's list of targets. But she was making it so _difficult_. Hers was the only life that he would put before his own.

Why didn't she understand that?

He loved her. He'd never tell her, but it was true. Lily Evans had captured his heart, and she wasn't even aware that she held it. And he wanted to keep it that way. If she didn't know that she held something so precious, then she couldn't give it away. She couldn't lose it.

Snape wouldn't trust anyone but her to hold his heart, even if it meant that he'd never get hers in return.

He had been fine with her friendship. Their views had clashed before, and there had been small arguments, but Snape had truly believed that their bond could withstand even the strongest forces. That they were invincible to all outside adversaries, protected by the thick walls of their friendship.

It never occurred to him that they could fall apart from inside those walls.

And isn't that how every myth and fairytale went? It wasn't what waited outside the kingdom that toppled it- the hidden threat on the inside did.

Oh, Snape could blame Lily. He could say that her pig-headedness had ruined their friendship, and endangered her life. But he knew that he'd be lying. The truth of the matter was that his own fear and cowardice had sent him into the wrong crowd, despite Lily's warnings, until he had gotten in too deep to get back out safely. This had led him straight into Riddle's numbers. Still too afraid to back out, Snape instead had attempted to convince Lily to join the Death Eaters. She had refused him- not that he had expected anything else. He had hoped, though.

What he had said to her- he didn't really believe that she was incapable of taking care of herself. It was just that the idea that she was would keep her safe, help her go unnoticed, because she wouldn't be considered a threat. But he should have known that Lily wouldn't take it like that.

And her comment about how it wasn't her job to stand next to him and look pretty? He knew that too. One of the things he loved about her was her passion, and here he was trying to get her do something she was so passionately _against_. He didn't want her to stand by him as his inferior. He wanted her at his side as his equal.

One might ask why, if he loved Lily so much, did he allow himself to get dragged into Riddle's crowd? The answer was simple.

Lily was completely against Riddle. _Snape was not_. He had never been rich as a child, but he had never been poor, either. Yet there had been people who looked down on and bullied him for his status, his looks, his bookish and slightly sour personality. So the idea that he was better than others, that he was more worthy of great things than they were-

The idea was very appealing.

He had done his best to keep this from Lily. He had met her when they were both ten. Even then, her gleaming green eyes and fiery red hair with a temper to match had entranced him. He valued her friendship more than anything in his life. The two of them had bonded over a less-than-desirable family life- she with a mean older sister and oblivious parents, and he with parents who could not keep themselves from arguing, even in front of their child. They had grown closer as the years went by, Snape's feelings becoming less and less platonic. They had stayed friends even as the other's views differed from their own.

Apparently, his joining Riddle's ranks had severely weakened their friendship, and his proposal that she join too had been the final blow that had splintered whatever thread had been holding them together.

So, no. Snape did not need to fear the dark.

He did, however, fear the things he couldn't change.

He arrived at his destination- Lily's house. It was small, and modest, but Lily had never been one for extravagance, so she didn't mind. A few meters from the house stood a dark forest, the one where he and Lily had had often ventured into as children. He had come on the road that skirted around it- though this route was longer, the forest's familiarity had comforted him, and helped him gather the courage to do what he had came here to do.

Apologize.

But then he heard voices. Looking up, Snape saw Lily and a man coming from the opposite direction. He hid quickly among the trees, watching the pair come closer. He heard Lily tell Potter- _Potter!_ That big-headed, no good, nobleman- that he had upgraded to tolerable. He watched disgustedly as Potter grinned cheekily and suggested that he and Lily might become _more than friends_ before walking away. And he listened heartbrokenly as Lily whispered, " _That's what I'm afraid of."_

Snape stood frozen as Lily turned and entered her house. The way she had looked at Potter made him sick with jealousy. She had never looked at him that way. He had always dreamed that she would look at him that way.

But then James Potter strutted in, and stole her heart with his hazel eyes and confident smile.

Lily might have said that she was afraid of loving him. But Snape had been in love with Lily for six years. He knew what love looked like. Lily might not know it yet, but she was in love with James Potter, and it isn't possible to stop loving someone just because you want to. And the worst part?

James Potter loved her just as much. Except, he knew it.

Snape could see it in his gaze as he walked away. He was in love with Lily, and he was just like those storybook characters that Lily denied having crushes on.

Handsome. Brave. Charming. And willing to fight for her love.

Snape was none of those things. As much as he longed for Lily's heart, he knew that he stood no chance against Potter- not when he had been trying to earn her affections for nearly a decade, and James Potter won it in seconds.

And, as much as he hated the man, Snape knew what it was like to love someone. He had seen the look in Lily's eyes. She wanted him. She wanted him, and she would be heartbroken if he left her. If he didn't love her as deeply. That fear was the only thing keeping her from jumping into his outstretched arms. But Lily was a brave woman. Snape was a fool if he thought that she wouldn't jump eventually.

And after seeing the look in Potter's eyes, he was an even greater fool if he thought that Potter wouldn't catch her when she finally did.

Quietly, with his heart in pieces, Severus Snape slipped through the shadows, avoiding the silver light of the moon, and began to trudge back home.

 _Coward,_ she had said.

He couldn't seem to stop proving her right.

* * *

Snape's heart was in his throat. He was at a Death Eater meeting, and Riddle was growing impatient. Riddle was now beginning to think of the Order as a serious threat. Rumors were being treated like facts, and the hushed voices that used to speak of the Order's work had grown louder. The people were beginning to _hope,_ and that was dangerous to Riddle. If enough people hoped someone was opposing him, then they'd begin to _believe_ that someone was opposing him. Then, more people would believe that _they_ could fight Riddle. He'd have a rebellion on his hands. And it was fact that the citizens greatly outnumbered the Death Eaters.

So what did Riddle propose they do?

Spread fear.

Snape could only pray that whatever Lily was doing, it wasn't with the Order.

Bellatrix Lestrange and the Lestrange brothers (her husband Rodolphus, and brother-in-law Rabastan) were tasked with sniffing out the Order members.

Antonin Dolohov and Lucius Malfoy were assigned to anyone who resisted them. Namely, friends and family trying to come to their loved ones' rescue.

Snape, Avery, and Mulciber would find out where the Order's headquarters was, through any means necessary.

The rest of the Death Eaters would clean up the pieces, and terrorize the town.

There was no going back now. Lily would hate him forever if he did this.

He ignored the voice in the back of his mind saying, "It isn't too late."

No. It wasn't too late to back out.

But it was too late to be with Lily.

And if he couldn't be with her, what did it matter that he did this? He wanted Lily more than anything in the world. But it was now impossible to live that dream- he had seen to that. Now, all he had to gain was status and power. All he had to lose was his life. And Lily's.

But he wouldn't think of that.

He had work to do.

* * *

Snape walked briskly down the streets of Hogsmeade, not bothering to spare a glance at curious passerby. The sun was at its peak, but the air was still chilly due to the approaching winter months. Snape pulled his cloak more tightly around himself, but otherwise did not break stride. He was scouring Hogsmeade for a possible Order Headquarters location. Unfortunately, since he had very little information on the Order members, he didn't have very many leads- for instance, if Lily was choosing a location for a secret meeting, she would choose somewhere very small, somewhere well-hidden. But if Snape were choosing, he'd choose somewhere large and out in the open, where people often went during the day. That way, it wouldn't seem strange for a large amount of people to be seen going in and out. So, without knowledge of the Order's members, headquarters could literally be _anywhere_.

It didn't bode well for him.

Snape was suddenly jerked from his thoughts when someone ran into him. "Watch it!" he snarled. He looked to see who had bumped into him-

And saw Black.

Black's face curled into a sneer. "Why don't you watch where you're going, _Snivellus_."

Sirius Black and Snape had met on occasion. Instant loathing. The same went for James Potter. Snape and Black were constantly at odds with each other- Snape was jealous of Black's money and social standing, and Black hated anyone who associated with Riddle. It was easy for Black to pick on Snape- he wasn't a nobleman, and he wasn't as visually appealing as Black- and as much as he hated the nickname Potter had stuck him with, Snape could not, for the life of him, come up with anything half as insulting for Potter or Black.

Snape sneered at his long-time rival. "Careful, Black. Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation, now would you? You wouldn't want to be seen with one of Riddle's most _valuable_ Death Eaters."

Black snorted. "You're not valuable, Snivellus. Don't flatter yourself. Not even Riddle would want an ugly, greasy thing like you."

Snape's temper flared. "You better watch it, Black. When the war comes, you'll be facing quick a few _ugly, greasy things_. And I'll watch with pleasure as everything you love is destroyed."

Black laughed, but Snape was sure that there was some unease behind it. "I don't love anything anymore, Snivelly. That's an empty threat."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Really? So, your newfound friendship with Potter means nothing to you?"

Black grabbed his collar. "Listen closely, Snivellus. Whatever quarrell the two of us have, leave James out of it. You're right- he means a lot to me. He's the only thing that means anything to me anymore." Black leaned closer. "I would stop at _nothing_ to protect him. Remember that."

Black shoved him backwards, and Snape, caught by surprise, stumbled before falling to the ground. He watched, something that went much deeper than hate burning in his eyes as he watched Black saunter away.

* * *

Snape was seething. He strode angrily on, his orders from Riddle forgotten. How dare Black treat him as inferior. _How dare he!_ Soon, Snape would be the one with the power, and Black would be the one in the dirt. Once Riddle won the war, once the world was at his command- Snape would reap his reward, and he'd never suffer again. Black would be the one looking up at him- never again would Snape be looked down upon.

He served Riddle now. There was no going back.

Then he saw _him_.

James Potter.

Snape stormed over, still raging from his run in with Black.

"Potter," he snapped.

Potter looked over, and frowned. "Sni- Snape."

The use of his surname threw Snape, but only for a moment. "I need to speak with you."

Potter appeared confused. "Erm... okay?"

Snape grabbed his arm roughly, and dragged Potter into a nearby alley. "Where is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"

Potter frowned again. "The what? I don't know about any headquarters for anything."

Snape slapped him. "Don't lie to me, Potter. I am working under Lord Riddle's orders. I'll ask nicely once more. _Where is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"_

Potter held a hand up to his face in disbelief. His face contorted in anger. "I don't know what you think you're doing, _Snivellus_ , but if you think-"

"No, Potter, if you think you can get away with that now, you have another thing coming." Snape spat out hatefully. "I don't think you understand your situation. I am a _Death Eater_. I am asking you where the Order of the Phoenix headquarters is located. My orders? Find out where it is using _any means necessary_. And, I don't know if you've noticed, Potter, but I know where you live, and who you live _with_."

Potter stilled. "Are you threatening my parents?"

His black eyes glittering maliciously. "Glad you've finally cottoned on, Potter."

Potter's breathing had turned shallow. "You- you can't do that-"

"On the contrary, Potter, I can. I can also arrest you for suspicious behavior- or, if you refuse to cooperate. So. Where is Order headquarters?"

Potter glared at him. "I don't know anything about a- an Order, or whatever you called it. I know that it's no big secret that I dislike Riddle, but I'm not dragging my parents into this war- I'm staying neutral."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I find that hard to believe, knowing your _heroic_ tendencies, Potter."

Potter crossed his arms. "I don't know what that means, but believe me, Snape. I have no interest in endangering my family. I know a battle lost when I see one. I can only assume that this Order opposes Riddle- why else would you accuse me of being a member?- but I know that Riddle is too powerful. I may not like it, but I have to accept it. Now, may I leave?" Potter looked very peeved that he had to ask Snape's permission. Clearly, Potter was beginning to comprehend the amount of power that Snape held now.

"Of course, Potter," Snape replied silkily. "But remember, Potter- I'm still watching you."

Potter glanced at him. "Then you're in for a very boring day- or however long you plan on keeping tabs on me."

Potter walked away, and Snape grinned. "We'll see about that." he whispered.

* * *

That night, Euphemia and Fleamont Potter were brought to a holding cell to await questioning. Snape knew that with his parents imprisoned, it wouldn't take long for James to cave. He'd have the location of headquarters in a week.

"Excellent job, Snape," cackled Riddle's second-in-command, Bellatrix Lestrange. "Are you sure Potter's a member?"

Snape's lips curled into a smirk. "I know Potter. He never could stay out of a fight, nor could he let his opinion go unheard. If Potter isn't a member, I'd be astounded."

Bellatrix's cold eyes were bright with excitement. "Wonderful. If there's any news-"

"I will notify you immediately," Snape finished drily.

Bellatrix nodded. "Good work, Snape. The Dark Lord will be pleased." She sauntered off, curly black hair swishing from side to side.

Snape shook his head. He would feel more comfortable if she were locked up- she was a wild card. She was insane, and sadistic- Snape was fairly certain that Riddle only kept her around because her methods were effective and she worshipped him.

The door shut behind her, and Snape breathed a sigh of relief. He walked quickly out of Riddle's mansion, which was where the Death Eater meetings were held, and practically flew, bat-like, to his own house. He lit the fireplace, and made himself a mug of tea. He glanced out the window to see Potter and Lily glancing at each other as they walked past one another. Lily's arms were full of laundry, and Potter was with his friends, but Snape didn't miss the blush that dusted Lily's cheeks as their eyes made contact, or the giddy grin that spread across Potter's face when he caught sight of her.

For the first time since Snape had first seen them together, he felt something other than jealousy. A deep, aching sorrow settled in his chest, right over his heart. He had blown his chances with Lily, and nothing, it seemed, would ever lessen that terrible pain.

Love hurt. Love healed. Love was numb, and it was burning. It came on slowly, and hit you suddenly. It was passionate, and quiet, it was fierce, and it was soft. It created so much, and yet it drove people to jealousy, anger, and hate. Love destroyed and made things, love could break men and raise them up.

Snape wasn't in a soft, quiet, beautiful love like Lily. He wasn't in a fierce, passionate, burning love like Potter. He was in a one-sided, aching, numbing, destructive love, one that was poisoning his mind ever so slowly.

And yet, he found himself unwilling to live without it.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for chapter eight. I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far, and don't worry- things will start getting exciting very soon. All I'm going to say is that you should keep an eye out for chapter eleven.**

 **So, thanks to anyone who reviewed/favorited/followed. You guys are amazing. I hope this chapter is alright- it's not my most impressive chapter. Also, someone asked me if Tonks would be making an appearance in this story. The answer is yes, she will- but I'll be messing around with her age, and she won't come in until much later.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Proud of Your Boy (Aladdin)**

 **Chapter 8**

"I just don't know what to do, Mum." Frank moaned. Remus had volunteered to take Alice to Madame Pomfrey, so Frank could get things sorted in his head. Frank had yet to tell Remus about his family's role in the Order, but his friend was giving him a lot of time to think, which Frank appreciated.

"Frank," sighed Augusta. "It's really not that hard. Wait on her hand and foot for nine months- you're lucky, Remus can help- then when the baby comes, be prepared for sleepless nights. Simple."

Frank shook his head. "That's not it. I'm just worried that we're bringing a child into an unsafe world."

Augusta peered at her son over the book she was reading. They were both in the sitting room. "Son, if you don't like the way the world is, then change it."

It was as though she had turned on a light for him. It was so simple. _If you don't like it, change it_. But she was so right.

"I... I need time to think about this," Frank murmured.

Augusta's gaze, usually so steely, softened. "I know, Frank. It's a lot to think about. Once you get used to the idea, things will be easier."

Frank smiled. "I think I'll go lie down. You'll tell me when Alice gets back."

Augusta nodded, and Frank went to the bedroom that he shared with Alice. He sat on the bed, and lit a candle for light. He watched the flames flicker as his mind whirled.

Change the world. Change the world. How? Joining the Order? He had already been seriously considering it. But what did he have to offer them? He wasn't insanely smart, like Remus, and he wasn't good at getting people to trust him, like Alice. He wasn't a good liar, and he wasn't very stealthy. He could throw a good punch, but he doubted that the Order was ready to fight openly. So what could he do?

All he knew was that he wanted to protect his child. His son, he was almost positive. Remus was betting that it was a girl, but Frank knew better. Maybe. It better be a boy; Frank had five galleons lying on that kid.

But how could he protect his kid? He hadn't even been able to help keep Remus safe- was he even fit to be a father?

The Order. Why would the Order want him? Passion? Enthusiasm? He could be those things, but he needed something to fight for- maybe protecting his child wasn't enough.

Frank couldn't help but feel that his mother would have made a better asset.

His mother. Augusta Longbottom. Known for her no-nonsense attitude. The very image of a fierce fighter. She deserved so much better than the life she had been given. She deserved a large house, and a son who didn't break his back at the docks everyday. She deserved a life where she didn't have to constantly count the money she spent, or a life where she could afford new shoes when her old ones wore thin.

And Frank couldn't give it to her.

Frank recalled something Remus had told him recently.

 _When I was working in the mines, it was hard to keep going sometimes. Whenever I felt like giving up, I thought of what I could have if I persevered: A big house with a big yard, and living in it, you and me. My mum, Augusta, your wife and child- maybe even a wife and child of my own. Imagine my surprise when I got out and found out about Alice- and now about your baby! Two things have already come true, Frank. My point is, don't give in, and the things you really want- well, you can get them._

But to get those things- would Frank have to join the Order? Was that how he could persevere?

His gut told him yes.

His brain, however, was about to explode from indecision.

But Remus had said to listen to his gut. So. The Order. Er...

Merlin's beard, what was he supposed to do? March up to Alice and demand a place in the Order? What made him think that he could join?

Maybe... his desire.

His desire to make his mother proud.

His whole life, he had put up with her scoldings, her disappointed looks whenever he messed something up. And once, when he was eight, her tears- a street vendor had tricked him into paying all of the day's wages, instead of the two sickles that were owed.

 _If you don't like it, change it_.

Yes. He'd change it. He'd change the world. He'd make a safe place for his son to live in. A safe place for his mother to smile in.

Frank was not unusually smart. He was not uncommonly brave, nor was he a talented liar. He wasn't handsome enough to make people give him anything he asked, and he wasn't good at getting people to talk to him.

But he was determined. He wanted more than anything to protect his son. He wanted to give his mother a son she could be proud of. And, he was a good listener.

Sometimes, all one needed to spill their secrets was someone to tell them to.

And Frank could be that person.

All his life, he had screwed up, fallen short. He had let Remus get arrested, he had been unable to get the medicine necessary to save Hope, and he was unable to give Alice the life she deserved. This time, he wouldn't. He was finally doing something right.

It felt great.

* * *

"Alice, love," Frank said when she and Remus got home. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Alice walked over, practically floating, she seemed so happy. "Of course, Frank. What is it?"

The two of them walked into their bedroom, and Frank sat his wife down on the bed. He took a deep breath. "I want to join the Order."

Alice's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sorry?"

"I want to join the Order." Frank repeated steadily.

Alice started to grin. "You really do?"

Frank gave her a small smile. "Yeah."

"What changed?" she inquired curiously.

Frank shrugged. "Honestly? I think he did." He put a hand on Alice's abdomen.

Alice rolled her eyes. " _Or she."_

Frank laughed. "Or she." he agreed.

Alice leaned forward and kissed him, and Frank knew for certain that, whatever the outcome, he had made the right choice.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom walked out of their bedroom to see Augusta and Remus sitting grimly at the kitchen table.

Frank felt dread settle in his stomach. "What's wrong?"

Remus turned to him, frowning. Distractedly, Frank thought that if his friend did that anymore, he'd get permanent wrinkles. "Lord and Lady Potter were taken in for questioning. Lord James is still fine, but I think that this is Riddle's way of breaking him- through his parents."

Frank glanced at his own mother and swallowed. "What does he want with Lord James?"

Remus shrugged. "As of late, Riddle's been searching more desperately for Order members. The Potters have always been an outspoken family. My guess is that he suspects that Lord James is a member."

Frank shivered. He could only guess what James Potter was feeling at that moment. He wondered if the man really was an Order member. If he was, then he must be driving himself crazy- and Frank had to wonder, when presented with a choice like that, did one choose to save his family, or the world?

Frank hoped he never had to find out.

Alice covered her mouth with her hands, tears springing up in her eyes. "How _horrible_. Poor James."

She spoke his name like she knew him personally, and Fran realized with a jolt that she probably did.

Merlin help him. His wife was on a first-name-basis with some of the most powerful families in town. Frank gulped.

Remus nodded. "I know. This isn't good. Riddle is going to squeeze the life out of the town until he thinks he has all the Order members out in the open. Then, mark my words, he'll go in for the final slaughter."

Frank swallowed. This didn't bode well for the future. However, instead of scaring him into backing out on his decision, this strengthened his resolve to fight. And yes, maybe he was putting his family in greater danger. But his family would always be in danger, if Riddle was in control.

This way, perhaps, the Longbottoms could be remembered for something other than their empty money bag.

Frank squeezed Alice's hand. "It will be alright," he promised, silently communicating that he still stood by his wish to join the Order of the Phoenix.

Alice gave him a small smile. "I know. It has to be."

* * *

Frank refused to be intimidated by Alastor Moody. He had been through so much, that he didn't need to be any more scared than he already was. Scratch that, he _couldn't_ be more scared than he already was.

So, in that week's Order meeting place, when Mad-Eye Moody had stared him down, Frank had squared his shoulders had stood firm. He was not an easy man to scare away.

Moody seemed to agree, because he stepped back and addressed Alice. "He seems brave enough."

Alice rolled her eyes at Moody good-naturedly. "Of course he is. I didn't marry a coward. If I thought he couldn't handle it, he wouldn't be here."

Frank cocked an eyebrow. He wasn't used to being talked about like he wasn't there. And this new side of Alice was... interesting. Not a _bad_ interesting, per say, but strange nonetheless.

Alice, catching his look, smiled at him apologetically. "I knew you could handle it, love."

Frank grinned a little. "Thanks for having faith, dear."

Alice giggled, and gripped his hand in hers.

Moody rolled his eyes. "Alright you two. Meeting's in session. Save it."

Frank was a bit embarrassed, but he didn't let it bother him too much. They were married, after all. They weren't going to act like strangers. Alice just huffed at the older man and dragged Frank over to a corner of the room.

"I'm going to introduce you to everyone," she murmured. "And ignore Moody. He just acts tough- he loves us all to death."

Frank chuckled quietly. "If you say so."

Alice threw a smile over her shoulder at him. Even though Moody had said that a meeting was in session, it was, in fact, over- Frank had been inducted, and any Order business (most of which Frank hadn't understood) had been addressed. Now, the Order was preparing to leave, after deciding that the next meeting would take place at Grimmauld Place- the Black Manor. The password was, "[your name], I'm here for the job opportunity you mentioned."

Alice brought him over to a young woman whose clothes were slightly scruffy, with red hair and green eyes. "Lily," Alice greeted. "This is my husband, Frank. Frank, this is Lily Evans. She works for Lady McKinnon."

Frank shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Lily smiled warmly at him. "It's nice to meet you too, Frank. I've heard a lot about you."

Frank glanced at his wife out of the corner of his eye. "Oh?"

Lily laughed. "All good things, I promise."

Frank chuckled. "I certainly hope so."

A man with glasses, hazel eyes, and untidy black hair came over. "How are you doing, Miss Evans?" he asked charmingly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Potter. Like always. Have you met Frank?"

Potter turned to him. "No, I can't say I have." He stuck out his hand. "James Potter. But you can call me James."

Frank shook it firmly. "Frank Longbottom."

James grinned. It was hard to believe that this was the man whose parents had been wrongly arrested. Although, perhaps James prefered to pretend that nothing was wrong- some people grieved that way. "It's nice to meet you, Frank. Tell me- what made you decide to join the Order?"

Frank glanced at Alice, unsure whether she wanted people to know about the baby yet or not. "Recent developments," he answered evasively.

Lily and James glanced at each other. "Is everything okay?" Lily asked worriedly.

Alice was beaming. "Everything's perfect, actually! Frank, do you mind if I-"

Frank shook his head, smiling. "Not at all, love."

Alice was practically bursting with joy. "Lily," she whispered loudly. "We're going to have a baby!"

Lily's jaw dropped. "A baby?" she asked in disbelief. "Oh, _Alice!_ That's wonderful! Congratulations!"

The two women squealed and hugged, and began talking about baby things ("When is the due date?", "What sort of names do you like?") and James slid over to Frank.

"Er- congratulations, mate. A baby."

Frank laughed nervously. "I know. Thanks."

James glanced at him, his glasses glinting. "You okay?"

Frank exhaled slowly. "I'm bloody terrified. I mean, a baby. _Now,_ of all times."

James gripped his shoulder tightly. "I think now's the best time to have one, mate. While you still can."

Frank turned to him, disbelieving. "That's rather morbid, don't you think?"

James laughed. "I suppose you're right. But hey- the baby thing is kind of cool. Focus on that."

Frank snorted. "You think fatherhood is less terrifying than wartime? You must be mad."

James laughed, and clapped Frank on the back. "I like you, Longbottom. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Hang on I want you to meet- Oi! Sirius!"

A tall man with shoulder-length black hair and grey eyes walked over. "Yeah, James?"

James slung an arm around James' shoulders. "Frank Longbottom, the new inductee? He's got a sense of humor."

Sirius Black- Frank knew it to be him by his aristocratic features, which every Black family member had- grinned. "Excellent. I'm Sirius Black."

Frank shook his hand. He was a bit overwhelmed. Two members of the richest families in town had just shaken his hand. Frank was so used to being separated by social class that this whole thing felt a bit like a dream.

Sirius glanced over to where Lily and Alice were still giggling. Frank wondered distractedly if his mother had ever been affected by baby fever. Somehow, he doubted it. Sirius shook his head at the two women. "Any idea what Evans and Long-" he stopped himself, glancing at Frank. "Er, and Alice are talking about?"

James turned to Frank. "Is it a secret?"

Frank shook his head. "Now that Alice has started telling people, she won't stop until everyone knows." He laughed a little. He loved Alice, but once she was able to tell a secret, she couldn't stop.

James grinned a little. "Frank here's going to be a father soon. Alice and Lily can't stop talking about it."

Sirius looked at Frank in surprise. "A baby? Blimey. Er- good job? Is that the right thing to say?"

James rolled his eyes. "Try _congratulations_."

"Right," mumbled Sirius. "Congratulations, mate."

"Thanks," Frank said a bit tiredly. It had been a long day, and there were only so many "congratulations" he could take.

Sirius grinned. "Tired?"

Frank sighed. "You have no idea. Those cravings are a real thing, you know. Totally not exaggerated."

James and Sirius laughed. James said, "I wish you luck with that, mate. What kind of things does she ask for?"

Frank felt a flush creeping up his neck. "Er- she doesn't. She complains about it, is all."

Sirius frowned. "Why doesn't she-"

"I can't afford them." Frank said bluntly. "She knows that."

The two men stared at him, but Frank held his ground. These two were incredibly rich. The house they were in right now- James'- was testimony to that. The idea that Frank couldn't afford to give his wife what she craved must be completely foreign to them. Still, he couldn't help but feel annoyed. He didn't like being judged for something he couldn't help- something they had taken for granted.

"Why not?" Sirius asked stupidly.

Frank scowled. "Because I have to work for what I have. I have a steady job- which is more than most people can say. You should realize, if you truly see us as equals, that I do not have the same privileges that you do. Starvation is very real to me- I nearly died of it, once. So no, I can't get Alice the strange foods she finds so appealing at the moment." he finished stiffly. "It's just not possible."

James swallowed. "You're right. We've been- we've been selfish. I suppose I never quite realized that not all of the people here had what I did. It didn't seem real."

Frank's eyes were steely- a trait that he had inherited from his mother. "It's very real to me."

James reached into his coat pocket. "If you need money-"

"No," Frank interrupted, softening. James and Sirius meant well, and he could forgive them their ignorance. "I don't take charity. But thank you."

Sirius frowned. "Are you sure? It's no trouble-"

"I do well enough on my own." Frank said firmly.

James shook his head a bit. "You sound like a man I met the other day. He went off on me- I offered to walk with him a ways, since the streets are so dangerous after dark- told me that _if the streets are unsafe, we risk it. For us, it's either that, or starvation_. Made me feel like a bit of an idiot."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "He went off on you because you made him feel helpless, mate. He was being polite- I'd have punched you."

Frank laughed. "Sounds like something my friend would say."

Sirius turned to him. "Is your friend afraid of joining the Order?"

Frank shook his head. "On the contrary, he wants to join- he has no idea that Alice and I know anything about it, though."

Sirius cocked his head to the side. "If he wants to join so badly, then why don't you tell him you're a member?"

Frank fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I'm worried about him," he said at last. "He's been... hurt by Riddle's laws before, and I think right now, he'd do something reckless."

James and Sirius nodded in understanding. Sirius looked thoughtful. "Well, I'd best be off. Don't want to give Snape a reason to arrest me."

James looked crestfallen, and Sirius winced. "Sorry."

James shook his head, sighing. He looked suddenly exhausted. "It's fine. I'm just worried about them, you know? They're not exactly young."

"Your parents?" Frank asked awkwardly.

James nodded. "Yeah."

Frank bit his lip. "I'm sorry."

James shrugged. "Thanks." he looked up at Frank. "If you ever need anything- my door is always open. Even if it's a weird food craving."

Frank smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

They both knew that he would never take him up on his offer.

Frank waved Alice over and bid James and Sirius farewell. He should have felt embarrassed about telling two strangers about his financial problems, but he got the feeling that he could trust those two not to think any less of him.

In fact, they seemed to think more highly of him.

Just as the Longbottoms were leaving though, Sirius grabbed Frank's arm. The black haired man looked a bit frazzled. "Do you know a man by the name of Remus Lupin?"

Frank and Alice tensed. How did Sirius Black know Remus' name? "Yes. I know him."

Sirius relaxed. "Could you tell him to meet me at the Hogshead in three days? Around noon?"

Frank frowned sharply. "What do you want with him?"

"That's between me and Remus." Sirius answered cooly.

Alice put a hand on her husband's arm. "Sirius, Frank's just a bit overprotective of his friend. We know Remus. We'll tell him."

Sirius nodded, satisfied. "Thanks. Oh, and welcome to the Order." with a wink, Sirius disappeared.

Frank turned. "How does he know Remus?"

Alice shrugged. "I don't know, love. But Sirius is a good man, and Remus is strong. I wouldn't worry about it."

Frank huffed. "That doesn't stop me from worrying anyway."

Alice looped her arm through Frank's, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know. That's how I know you'll make such a good father."

Frank perked up immediately. "You really think so?"

Alice laughed. "Of course I do."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey y'all, I'm back! So, thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favorited the last chapter. Feedback is much appreciated. So, I hope you like this chapter, because it's the first time I've done Lily's perspective, and I'm a little nervous for the outcome. Also, this was the most difficult chapter I've ever written. I had to rewrite it, and edit parts, and... ugh. I hope it came out okay. Sorry for the wait. Oh, and I'm changing the rating to T- slightly disturbing scenes for younger readers.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Memory (Cats)**

 **Chapter 9**

Lily Evans brushed a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. The back of her head ached from all the pins that were holding her hair in its traditional knot. Her green eyes were tired as she scrubbed mercilessly at the McKinnon's kitchen floor. Next was the ballroom floor. That was the one thing that she hated about the McKinnon Manor- the large ballroom. Why the house even had a ballroom, she had no idea. There hadn't been a party held here in decades.

And it was a _pain_ to clean.

Yet, here she was, intelligent, kind Lily Evans, scrubbing the floor of a ballroom while her sister, Petunia Dursley, was probably twirling on one of her own at that very moment.

Petunia. Petunia, who had never liked Severus- but that was because of his status. Even though his family was of higher ranking than theirs, Petunia had always told her that she could do even better- marry someone high up on the social scale. But Lily didn't want to marry for money. When she had told Petunia this, Petunia had gone into a rage- didn't she _want_ to be taken care of? Did she _want_ to be living on the streets? Well, Lily would much rather take care of herself and marry for love, _thank you very much_.

Petunia was her legal guardian after their parents' death, and neither sister liked this arrangement very much. Ever since their parents' funeral, Lily and Petunia had grown apart. But Petunia had fallen in love with a rich noble who lived on the edge of Hogsmeade- Vernon Dursley. The two of them had gotten married, and Petunia now lived with her husband in a big house, miles away, sending Lily just enough money every month to get by comfortably. That's right. Lily had a large purple whale for a brother-in-law.

The thing was, Lily didn't resent her sister for falling in love with a rich man. She didn't resent Petunia for being _happy_. She resented her because she had left Lily to fend for herself in this dangerous world. She had left her younger sister, without a second thought. That made Lily mad.

Lily hissed as she broke a nail. That _hurt_. And her arms were aching. She was hungry, and cold, and-

She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself.

She supposed what was really bothering her was that Petunia had found love. Petunia, who had always put money before love, had found the one thing that Lily had been holding out for. In the end, Petunia got love _and_ riches.

And Lily was scrubbing somebody else's floor.

Then again, there was someone who had been subtly hinting that they loved her.

Lord James Potter.

But how could he? She could understand that he felt attracted to her- but he kept insisting that what he felt ran far deeper than infatuation. And she didn't know how to react to that. They barely knew each other. But Lily couldn't deny her own feelings.

If only she understood them.

Lily wanted love. But how could she recognize it? It was easy enough to spot it in other people. Unfortunately, that didn't help her identify it in herself.

Maybe, what she was really afraid of was that James' supposed love for her wouldn't survive.

That it would sputter out, like a doused candle flame. That it wouldn't survive the trials that were coming. She was afraid to admit her feelings, in case she fell too hard, too far, and then he decided that it wasn't worth the effort.

Lily shivered. She was afraid of these feelings. She was afraid of the bliss they might bring her.

Didn't people always say that you didn't know what you had until you lost it?

She didn't want to lose her heart to James Potter.

She didn't want to give away her love.

But if not to him, then who?

Lily finished the kitchen floor. She stood, arching her cramping back, and carried the bucket and rag into the ballroom. With a heavy sigh, she dropped to the ground and began scrubbing the marble floor. She imagined that every puddle of water pooled on the floor was James Potter's face.

 _Stupid Potter,_ she thought. _I just can't get you out of my head._ _Why must you torment me so?_

She ran her rag through his glasses. It didn't make her feel any better.

She wiped her brow tiredly. She loved Marlene, really she did, but she did have her flaws. One of which was the idea that if her house wasn't spotless if unexpected company dropped by, she'd die from mortification. In Lily's opinion, if Marlene wanted her to deep clean her home every day, she should do the brunt of the work herself.

But of course, that wasn't suitable for a _lady_.

What was Lily then? The dirt beneath everyone's shoe?

It certainly felt like it. That was one of the reasons that she looked forward to the Order meetings. There, there was no such thing as nobleman and peasant. They were all just people, united against a common foe. Here, however, it was Lady Marlene and her hired help.

Lily shook her head. She shouldn't be thinking like this. Marlene was a great employer- she was much nicer than most. And she respected Lily. They were friends. And it wasn't Marlene's fault that they were seperated by social class.

Yet, they were. And it kept them from growing closer.

Ah, well. She should be cleaning. Like the servant she was.

Could she be anything else? Maybe. If she let herself love James Potter.

There it was again. Why did everything come back to him? Perhaps she'd ask Alice at the next Order meeting. Alice had gotten it right. She was having a baby, for Merlin's sake! She could help Lily.

Lily broke a nail and cursed. Perfect. Just what she needed. A little more pain.

"Ooh, _language,_ Miss Evans. I'd never have thought it of you."

Lily whirled around. There, standing outside the ballroom window was-

"Lord Potter!"

James grinned cockily. "Hello."

Glancing around to make sure that no one was anywhere near, Lily hurried over to the window. "What are you doing here?" she hissed. She didn't worry about formalities, since James had told her not to use them when they were alone- even if they weren't at an Order meeting. "Well?"

James looked a bit sheepish. "I had to see you."

Ignoring the way that her heart fluttered at his words, Lily scowled. "I'm at work, Potter. If someone sees you here, they'll get suspicious-"

James shushed her. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."

Lily sighed. "Potter..."

"James." he corrected.

She rolled her eyes. "James. You can't be here. It's dangerous. For the both of us."

James shook his head. "Lily. Please. We can't let fear control what we do. That's letting Riddle win."

But Lily's insecurities were flooding back. _Would his love last? Did he even mean it? How could she be sure that she was in love, when she didn't even know what it was?_

 _Was it worth it?_

Lily avoided his gaze. "How do you know I feel the same?"

James' face fell. "I just thought- you never told me to stop," he finished feebly. "I suppose I thought that that meant you did."

Lily hugged herself. "I don't know what love is," she confessed. "You claim to love me, but I don't think you understand what it is, either."

James looked relieved. "Is that what you think? Lily, that's the thing about love. You don't know what is is until you find it. And we can find it. Together."

Lily shuddered. "But what if we don't know? What if we think we've found it... and it turns out that we didn't find anything at all? You can only find love once."

James shook his head. "We'll know. When the pain of being apart gets too intense to handle, when the last person we think of at night is the other, when we realize we'd do anything to protect the other- then we'll know."

Slowly, Lily looked up to meet his eyes. "Is that what you feel?"

James gripped her hand. "Yes." he said simply. "I've only ever felt this way for you."

Lily stared at their entwined hands. "I need time."

James nodded in understanding. "That's the wonderful thing about love. If it's real, it will wait."

With those words, James kissed her hand and pulled away, heading home. His silhouette was dark against the setting sun, giving Lily the impression that he was a dream made flesh.

She desperately hoped that this dream wouldn't become a nightmare.

* * *

Lily strode down the streets of Hogsmeade, her vibrant red hair whipped out of its bun by the harsh winter wind. She shivered, clutching the basket she was carrying more tightly. War was brewing- anyone could see that- but she didn't understand why the weather had to reflect the somber atmosphere. It made everything feel ten times more dire.

And they needed all the sunlight they could get.

Casting an annoyed glance at the overcast skies, Lily pulled her cloak closer to her body. She was heading towards the marketplace to buy some groceries, when she noticed a crowd gathered on a street corner.

Knowing that this could mean nothing good, Lily headed over. Dread was rapidly overtaking her, and her hands trembled at her sides. She pushed her way through the crowd, suddenly _needing_ to see what everyone was staring at. When she saw the source of all the commotion, she gasped, and dropped her basket.

There, pinned to the wall of her shop, was the dead body of Arabella Figg.

Arabella Figg. Worked with the Order. And, obviously, Riddle had found out. Arabella's grey hair blew gently in the wind, her head lolling against her chest. Her hands had been nailed to the wall of the shop she owned- she had been a tailor. With six cats. Lily wondered what would become of them now.

Arabella's blue eyes were wide open, her mouth gaping in a silent scream. Her silver spectacles were hanging off her nose, in danger of falling off. Her skin was chalk white, and there was a note fastened to her blood-stained blouse.

 _I don't tolerate treason. Let this be a lesson to all Order of the Phoenix members._

 _-T.M. Riddle_

Lily clapped a hand over her mouth. The shock was beginning to wear off, but the horror and disgust was still there. She ran into the nearest row of bushes and was sick.

Wiping away the vomit on her face and ignoring the acidic taste in her mouth, Lily ran to Potter Manor.

She didn't know where else she could go.

* * *

Lily didn't know when she had begun crying, but she couldn't stop. She flew past everyone, her feet barely touching the ground, her only thought to get to James. She wished that the road in front of her would stop blurring.

Gasping, she rounded the corner and tore down the path leading to his front door. She grabbed the knocker and banged, repeatedly, hard, unconcerned of the noise or the fact that she'd probably have bruised knuckles tomorrow. She was screaming his name hysterically, and her left palm began slapping the door while her right used the knocker when James didn't answer fast enough.

The door opened, and Lily was wrenched forward, still holding onto the knocker- somewhere in her mind, she realized that it was shaped like a lion's head.

James stood in the doorway, startled, hazel eyes wide with worry. He grabbed her shoulders and brought her inside. She was still crying and blubbering, but he didn't seem to mind- just worried. So worried. _They should be worried_.

"Lily," James said urgently. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Lily didn't know how he understood her, looking back on it. She was so hysterical that she could barely make out her own words. Somehow, though, James got what she was trying to tell him.

He blanched. "Merlin, no... Stay here, I'll be right back."

With those words, James dashed out of the house, leaving Lily, still sobbing, behind him.

The house seemed so lonely. How long before the world was just as bleak?

Or was it already?

* * *

When James came back, his skin was almost transparent. His eyes were dull, and he looked at Lily defeatedly. "I alerted the rest of the Order," he informed her. "Albus is looking into it now."

Lily glared at the ground. Her shock and sorrow was slowly being replaced with red-hot anger. "Loads of good that does her now. She's already _dead_."

James winced. "I know," he said softly. "But we can't change that."

Lily twisted the fabric of her skirt agitatedly. "We're supposed to be able to prevent this sort of thing from happening."

James put a hand on her shoulder. "We can't save everyone," he reminded her gently. "Arabella won't be forgotten."

Slowly, Lily turned to meet James' eye. "Which will people remember? Arabella... or her sacrifice?"

James had no answer to that. The silence stretched on. Finally, James spoke up.

"Why don't you stay the night? It's late, and after what you just saw..." he trailed off.

Lily shuddered. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep after that," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I've never seen anything like that before."

James nodded in understanding. "I'll make tea. We can sit in here all night, or you can read a book from the library- my father collected all sorts of books; we have loads."

Lily nodded, feeling dead inside. "Thank you." she whispered.

James put a hand on her shoulder. "Anytime."

And Lily liked that he hadn't said _It's no trouble_. It was trouble. They were in trouble. Arabella's murder proved that no one was safe anymore. She liked that he hadn't said _You're welcome_. It seemed too flippant in that dark moment. He had simply said _Anytime,_ letting her know that he was ready to offer her comfort, and that if she ever needed some again, he'd be waiting with open arms.

Lily accepted the mug of tea James handed her a minute later, and she didn't protest when he sat next to her and draped a woolen blanket over them both.

And he didn't protest when she laid her head on his shoulder. He just put an arm around her shoulders and sat with her. They both stared into the fire, thinking of everything and nothing all at once. Right now, they didn't need to worry about what this might mean for their relationship. They didn't need to fear any future awkward interactions. They could just _be,_ sharing sorrow, and recalling all that had made Arabella Figg such a brave, wonderful woman.

"Arabella."

Lily turned her head to face James, who had just spoken. "What?"

James cleared his throat. "Maybe the world will remember her sacrifice, her death. But you and I- you and I will remember _Arabella_."

Lily smiled slowly. It was not a happy smile; there was no joy in it. It was a gesture saying that she agreed, and James understood that what she was feeling right now she couldn't put into words, but she was grateful to be with him in that moment.

Rain began to pour down outside, creating a silvery mist outside the window. But in the Potters' sitting room, only the crackling fire existed, and the man and woman who were sleeping through the sorrow of that evening.

Their sorrow would not be eased for a long time yet. But, in the arms of one another, that didn't seem to matter.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed. This is going to be an interesting chapter, because I've written it in a minor character's perspective. I hope that's okay. Also, stay tuned for the next chapter... I think it might surprise a few of you. Maybe. ;)**

 **Also: Happy Birthday to me! I gave you an update to celebrate my birthday. See, I do care. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Corner of the Sky (Pippin)**

 **Chapter 10**

Fabian Prewett looked at his twin brother Gideon grimly. Arabella Figg hadn't been a close friend of theirs, but her death was a heavy blow nonetheless. Now, sitting on the docks at the edge of the city, it was easy to believe that the days were growing darker, that something horrific had taken place in the grey city.

Gideon stared forlornly at the slate-colored waves. "Arabella. They killed her. In cold blood."

Fabian nodded. "They won't stop either. This is why we joined the Order. To fight this oppression."

Gideon's blue eyes were dark. "It isn't that simple, Fabian." He hung his head, his red hair falling over his eyes. "Life is messy."

Fabian punched his brother lightly on the arm. "Too bad Molly can't help us clean it up."

Despite the grim situation, the Prewett brothers both grinned at the mention of their little sister, Molly. Her flaming red hair and dark brown eyes warmed her brothers' hearts. They loved her more than anything. She wasn't a child anymore, though- she already had a husband and five children. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Fred and George (the twins). Fabian and Gideon loved Molly, and Arthur Weasley, their brother-in-law.

Fabian sighed. Maybe someday, his nephews would live in a safer world. Maybe they could build it. Maybe they couldn't.

 _Damn it,_ thought Fabian. _I'm going to protect those boys if I die trying_.

And to protect his family, he had to take down Riddle.

The question was, how?

Riddle was a genius. He was manipulative, clever, and had a knack for finding people's weaknesses and _using them_.

Now, it was simply a matter of finding Riddle's weakness. What did he fear most?

Fabian and Gideon would find out.

* * *

Fabian and Gideon walked side-by-side down the cobbled streets of their beloved town, into the poorer region of Hogsmeade. Arthur Weasley wasn't a rich man, but Fabian and Gideon didn't mind. He made their sister happy, which is all they had ever wanted for her.

It wasn't long before they arrived at a tall, rickety-looking house Molly and Arthur had affectionately nicknamed "The Burrow". Fabian grinned as he knocked on the door, Gideon cheering up beside him. Molly opened the door, her red hair that escaped her bun curling prettily around her face. Her warm brown eyes lit up when she saw them.

"Fabian! Gideon! It's been too long since we've seen you last. Come in, come in!" Molly ushered them inside. She looked tired, but that was to be expected when she had to watch four children by herself while her husband was at work.

Molly led her two brothers through the house, into the kitchen, even though Fabian and Gideon knew their way around.

"Would you like some tea?" Molly asked, already filling the kettle. "You both look exhausted."

Fabian fiddled with his golden coming-of-age watch. It had a dent in it, from when he'd accidently hit it against the door jam when he was eighteen- he had been in a hurry, and had grabbed it to put it on later, and, well, obviously things hadn't ended as he would have hoped. His father had rolled his eyes exasperatedly when he shamefacedly admitted what had happened, and Gideon and their mother had laughed about it later. Molly had just smiled, shaking her head. It was hard to believe that that little girl was the woman standing before him now. He met her eyes.

"A colleague of ours died yesterday. Because of her work in the Order."

Molly dropped the teaspoon she was holding, and Fabian listened as it softly clattered against the floor. "What?"

Gideon spoke up. "Arabella Figg. Killed by Riddle. She was a good woman." A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Lots of cats."

Tears filled Molly's eyes. "I... That's awful. I'm so sorry." She looked at them nervously. "She was a colleague of yours, you said? And Riddle killed her because of her work?"

Fabian sighed. "Molly, joining the Order may have been dangerous, but this is something we need to do. Riddle is hurting innocent people. We just... I can't speak for Gideon, but I need to do this for the boys. They deserve to grow up in a world free of fear. You understand that, don't you?"

Molly's lip trembled. "Of course I do," she whispered. "That doesn't stop me from worrying, though. You two are my family. As much as I want the world to be free of fear for my boys, I _don't_ want it to be free of their uncles."

Gideon stood up and walked over to his little sister, kissing Molly on the cheek. "I don't want it to be, either. But Fabian is right. We can't just sit here."

Molly sighed, wrapping her arms around her brother. "Be careful."

Gideon nodded, then grinned. "Got anything to eat, Molly?"

* * *

Fabian and Gideon were sitting in a tavern- The Three Broomsticks. Fabian chugged down his bottle of butterbeer, then called for another. He stared gloomily at the sparkling liquid. His visit with Molly, though it went well, had not done anything to improve his mood. He was simply too depressed to be happy right now.

Although, he had no desire to get drunk. Hence, the absence of firewhiskey. Molly really was rubbing off on him.

Fabian glanced up at his twin. The man he knew nearly as well as himself, the one he'd grown up with. They did everything together. There were no secrets between them. So deep was their bond, nothing, not even Riddle's threat looming over them, could get in between them.

"Gideon?"

Gideon glanced at him. "What?"

"I think I might die in the war. So I need you to live. For the boys."

Gideon snorted. "Fat chance. You die, I die. Simple as that."

Though his words warmed Fabian, they were not what he wanted to hear. "I'm not joking."

Gideon scowled at him. "Did I say you were? No. I'm not joking, either."

"Molly said the boys need their uncle."

Gideon's eyes narrowed. "Molly said the boys needed their _uncles_. We've done everything together, Fabian. This won't be any different. Besides, I don't intend to take any precautions that you don't take."

Fabian frowned. "You sure? I'm kind if reckless, you know."

Gideon grinned. "Then we'll be reckless together, you prat."

Fabian rolled his eyes. "I don't know why Mum liked you better. You're incorrigible."

Gideon's grin turned wicked. "Don't be a hypocrite, Fabian."

The two men laughed, and the world didn't seem quite so horrible. After all, they had each other. If everything else was taken from them, that would never change.

Gideon traced the rim of his butterbeer bottle with his finger thoughtfully. "Why are we doing this? Risking everything for a dream?"

Fabian took a swig of his drink, beginning to wish that he'd bought something stronger. "How else will this nightmare end?"

Gideon turned to him, his expression solemn. "You know what I mean."

Fabian frowned slightly. "Dunno. Guess we just know that we have to. If we don't fight, who will? We can't just assume someone else will."

Gideon shook his head. "I think I want more than that. I want my life to mean something. To... be remembered. To make a difference."

Fabian nodded knowingly. "I know what you mean. I think I want that too."

Gideon continued as though he hadn't heard Fabian. "I don't want to be one of those men who just come and go and without doing anything worthwhile. I've got to be more than just another citizen."

Fabian was quiet for a moment. "Don't dream too big, Gideon," he said at last. "Or you'll never achieve it."

Gideon turned to him. "Don't fight too hard, Fabian." he countered. "Or you'll throw your life away before you can make a difference."

Fabian sighed. He and Gideon, while very much alike, were not the same person. Gideon had always dreamed big, fantasizing about what life could be like. Fabian had always worked too hard to oppose the many injustices of the world. While both were admirable qualities, the two brothers did not know when to stop. The result? Two rather reckless and exhausted men.

It drove Molly mad.

Gideon stood up. "The question is- what do we do about this?"

Fabian stood also. "I think we need to take an eye for an eye."

Gideon eyed him warily. "What do you mean?"

"They killed Arabella. We're not murderers- that's not what I meant," Fabian assured his brother hurriedly. "But I'm thinking about, well... _borrowing_ some important paperwork. Intercepting an important shipment of Riddle's. Whatever it takes to show him that the Order isn't backing down."

Gideon nodded. "Whatever it takes," he repeated.

Fabian stared out the window of The Three Broomsticks. Snow was beginning to fall, ashlike, to the ground.

Riddle would pay for what he had done.

Soon.

* * *

That night, two unidentifiable men broke into Antonin Dolohov's house. Nothing was broken, and the lock hadn't been picked. The only sign of the break-in was the missing ring that Riddle had asked Dolohov to guard.

Dolohov didn't know the importance of the Gaunt family ring, but he knew that his master would not be pleased to hear that it had been stolen.

By dawn, a copy had been made, and Dolohov prayed that Riddle would not know the difference.

* * *

Needless to say, Albus Dumbledore was not impressed with the Prewett brothers.

They were sitting in James Potter's hidden basement, at an Order meeting. Gideon had just presented the ring to Dumbledore, who wasted no time in telling them that they had been horribly reckless. Moody hadn't stopped yelling for ten minutes.

"Do you to realize what you could have done?" Moody bellowed. "You could have been caught! Do you two listen to a thing I say?"

Fabian and Gideon exchanged a look. Gideon answered. "You always say, _constant_ _vigilance_."

"We were very vigilant." added Fabian.

Moody mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, " _Foolish young upstarts."_

"That's enough, thank you, Alastor." said Dumbledore. The old professor turned to the twins. "What you did was irresponsible- yet, it may have helped us turn the tide of this war."

Fabian and Gideon grinned. They may be adults, but they still had the spiritedness of their youth. Although, thirty was not exactly what one would call "old".

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses. "This is the Gaunt family ring. How did you boys know to take it?"

Gideon shrugged. "It wasn't difficult to figure out. There were papers all over Dolohov's desk- most of them had to do with the ring. Riddle wanted Dolohov to look into its history, I think- that, and to guard it."

Dumbledore nodded. "The Gaunt family ring is a very old, very valuable Hogsmeade relic, belonging to one of the oldest families to have lived here. Many people believe that the ring brings good luck, others a curse."

James Potter frowned. "But magic isn't real."

Dumbledore nodded at him. "Indeed. Riddle is no fool- I doubt he believes those rumors. However, it is because of those rumors that the ring is so powerful. You see, while Riddle is not superstitious himself, many people are- and if people believe that he has a magical ring, more men and women will follow him, or be less inclined to oppose him. This is indeed a powerful weapon, in that sense."

There was silence. Then-

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Sirius Black asked. "Destroy it?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I think that would be wise. The question is, how?"

"Chuck it in the fire," Marlene suggested. "That will melt it down."

Dumbledore shook his head. "If Riddle decided to search the houses of Hogsmeade, and he found the melted remains of his missing ring in someone's fireplace, then he would most certainly arrest them. We need to find a way to do this that will leave no trace. I will keep the ring for now, until we can dispose of this safely."

Everyone stared at the gold ring sitting innocently on the table. There was a black stone set in the middle. It had a strange symbol on it- a triangle with a circle in the inside and a line through it.

Frank pointed at it. "What does that symbol mean?"

Dumbledore studied for a moment. "I do believe," he said softly. "That that is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows."

Alice looked nervous as she asked, "What does that mean? The Deathly Hallows?"

Dumbledore looked grave. "The Deathly Hallows are three very influential relics- the Gaunt ring, the Peverell cloak, and the elderwood staff. Each one is supposed to serve a specific purpose- the ring to grant good luck, the cloak to keep its wearer hidden from enemies, and the elderwood staff to grant success. It is my guess that Riddle wishes to own all three to strike fear into the hearts of men- for it is said that a man who holds all three can conquer all."

Dorcas frowned. "But, surely a few objects can't hold that much power."

Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Meadowes, I wish that I could assure you otherwise, but unfortunately, these objects do hold that sort of power. And I do not think that Riddle will stop there- to ensure that he has nearly every man and woman in Hogsmeade under his control, he will search out other objects with great meaning and value."

"Like what?" Gideon asked.

"I'm not sure," admitted Dumbledore. "I can only guess."

James arched an eyebrow. "Have a guess, then."

Dumbledore sighed. "I am fairly certain of at least one of the objects- the locket of Slytherin, I do believe, is in his possession. As for the others, they will be old and valuable, but I do not know what they would be. Perhaps something that belonged to the four founders of Hogsmeade- Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw. You should all think about any possibilities. But for now, I bid you all goodnight."

The meeting now adjourned, people began to grimly head home.

Fabian and Gideon looked at each other. The war had taken a dark turn. Many men ran to those with power- and with so many important relics in Riddle's possession, who would stand in his way if they believed that those destined to wield them were destined to rule? It was bad news for the Order.

Fabian vowed to find every object and destroy it. The only question was how.

 **A/N: So I'd like to explain ages real quick. It is currently winter in the story, so:**

 **Remus: 21, born on March 10**

 **Sirius: 22, born on November 3**

 **James: 21, born on March 27**

 **Lily: 21, born on January 30**

 **Snape: 21, born on January 9**

 **Frank: Not known, but we're going to pretend he's 21 and was born in, say, April.**

 **Alice: Also unknown, let's pretend she was born in December, and just turned 22.**

 **Molly: So, Pottermore says that Lucius Malfoy was born in 1954, making him six years older than Remus. Lucius was also a prefect when Snape came to school, and he and Arthur are long-time rivals. Assuming that Molly is the same age as Arthur and Arthur is the same age as Lucius, she'd be 27 in this story. I know, 27 is pretty young to have five kids, but remember that back in the day, 14-year-olds were having children. I'm not saying that's the case here, but it is acceptable to marry and have children at a younger age. Molly can have an October birthday, I think.**

 **Arthur: Unknown. Here he's 27 and born in September. See above.**

 **Fabian and Gideon: Assuming they're older, I'm making them 30, born in May.**

 **Marlene/Dorcas/Mary: All 22, September, May, and July birthdays respectively.**

 **All ages were checked on Pottermore. Please note that this story does not take place in any one era- I think of it as a mixture of many, purely from imagination. Sorry for the long Author's note, but I just wanted to make things clear. Also, I apologize if you thought this was a weak chapter- I was a bit busy today, but the Horcrux ideas kept coming. I didn't mean to do it this way, but I think that it sounds okay... Please let me know what you think.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back. So. The long awaited chapter 11. I hope it lives up to your expectations. I'm warning you right now- this is going to be the longest story I've ever written, so some chapters might seem faster plot-wise than others- I don't want to rush this. Also, I realize that the last chapter was kind of crappy- sorry.**

 **This chapter is inspired by one of my all-time favorite musical songs. I hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed. I love you guys!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **History Has Its Eyes On You (Hamilton)**

 **Chapter 11**

Peter Pettigrew ducked his head as a group of Death Eaters passed by. He didn't want to be noticed by those bullies. They were trouble. He hated Riddle.

He hated anything that threatened him.

Peter lifted his head once the Death Eaters were out of sight, and continued on his way. He ducked into Honeydukes (the best sweet shop around), and browsed a bit before buying the smallest bar of chocolate he could find. It was expensive (all chocolate was these days), but sometimes Peter just needed something to take his mind off things.

He walked out, breaking a small chunk off of the bar and eating it slowly, trying to make the flavor last. He continued up the road, past various Hogsmeade shops (Madame Malkin's Clothes for All Occasions; Ollivander's, the antique shop; and Flourish and Blotts, the biggest bookstore in town just to name a few). Finally, Peter reached his destination: his home. It was small, and quaint, and unremarkable.

It was perfect.

Peter unlocked the front door and stepped inside, hanging up his cloak. He shook the snow from his blonde hair and headed into the sitting room. Peter lit the fireplace and sat in front of the flames, warming his hands. His blue eyes were locked onto the red and gold flames, which were casting flickering shadows against the stone walls.

Peter shivered and leaned closer to the fire. He had gotten two offers that day, and now he had to choose between the them. He recalled the first one.

 _Peter was in his sitting room, reading a book. He looked up when there was a knock at the door._

 _Peter stood up, and grabbed the poker by the fireplace. These were dangerous times, and he knew that it wasn't wise to be unarmed when someone came knocking. He leaned against the door, and shouted, "Who's there?"_

" _Lord James Potter. Could I have a word, Mr. Pettigrew?"_

 _Peter hesitated. He had no way of knowing whether this man was telling the truth, but something in the man's tone convinced him that he was being honest. So Peter opened the door, beckoned Lord Potter quickly inside, then shut and bolted the door._

 _He turned to Lord Potter. "Did you need something from me, my lord?"_

 _Lord Potter grinned cockily. "Straight to the point, eh? Not that that's a bad thing. And you don't need to call me 'lord' or anything like that. James is fine, really. Anyway, Mr. Pettigrew-"_

" _Peter." Peter interrupted, before silently berating himself for being so rude._

 _James looked at him, confused. "Sorry?"_

 _Peter cleared his throat, and shifted from foot to foot. "If- if you insist on being called James, then I must insist you call me Peter. If you want." he added quickly._

 _James beamed. "Well then, Peter, I've come to ask you to-" James looked around and lowered his voice. "I've come to ask you if you'd like to join the Order of the Phoenix."_

 _Peter's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "The- the what?" he asked hoarsely._

 _James' voice lowered even more. "The Order of the Phoenix. Listen, I know that it's a dangerous thing to be a part of- please just hear me out, Peter." James practically begged him. "I know that Riddle is hunting down Order members, I know that it's, well, frightening. But," James leaned towards him. "This is why we need people to join. These days won't get brighter if we just sit here. The streets won't get safer. Things will only get worse. We heard about you- Peter Pettigrew, excellent at gathering information. We could really use someone like you- someone who can get Riddle's secrets without getting caught. We need you, Peter. This war will be much harder without you." James swallowed, and tilted his head to the side. "So? What do you say? Will you join the Order?"_

 _Peter gulped. The idea was both appealing and terrifying. The thought that these people needed him made his heart swell with pride- the danger made his stomach do summersaults. "C-can I think about it for a few days?" Peter asked timidly._

 _James nodded, looking relieved that Peter was considering the offer. "Of course. I'll be back in three days- is that alright?"_

 _Peter nodded, grateful that James was giving him more time to think it over. "That's fine."_

" _Excellent." James stood up and shook Peter's hand. His grip was firm, yet gentle. Peter had good judgement, and James Potter seemed like a good man. Maybe even a great one._

 _Peter walked him to the door, and James made his leave._

Peter had been almost certain that he'd take James up on his offer. His longing to be needed was stronger than his self-preservation. Which was impressive, really. Peter had seen bad things happen to good people- enough things to promise himself that he'd never let himself fall victim to the world's cruelty. But James was right. If he let it be, if he didn't get involved, then things could only get worse. And besides, when it came down to it, what was more important to him- his life, or giving others a chance to live?

Peter wasn't sure, and _that_ scared him more than anything.

Then, of course, not four hours after his visit from James Potter, someone else came knocking on his door.

One Lucius Malfoy.

 _Peter was sitting by the fire once more. This time, however, he was roasting chestnuts when someone knocked on the door._

 _Peter grabbed the poker once more. He positioned himself by the door. Just as he was reaching for the doorknob, however, the person on the other side of the door spoke._

" _Peter Pettigrew?" they drawled. "Mr. Pettigrew, it's Lord Lucius Malfoy. Could you open the door, please?"_

 _Peter would have to be a fool not to hear the annoyance laced in the man's voice._

 _Peter opened the door a crack, poker still at the ready. "What do you want with me?" he demanded. Had James Potter's visit already reached Riddle's ears? They said he had eyes everywhere..._

" _Mr. Pettigrew!" exclaimed Lord Malfoy. "How nice of you to welcome me in your home. These days, being outside is perilous, after all."_

 _Frowning slightly, Peter lowered the poker and opened the door the rest of the way. He may be wary of Malfoy, but if the man truly had come in peace (which was doubtful), then refusing him could ruin Peter socially, and the comfortable life that Peter had built for himself would crumble._

" _Lord Malfoy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

 _Malfoy smirked. "I have come to give you an offer, Mr. Pettigrew. One that you would do well to accept."_

 _Chills danced along Peter's spine. "What sort of offer?"_

 _Lucius Malfoy tucked a strand of his long blonde hair behind his ear, his cold grey eyes slightly narrowed. He was enjoying himself, Peter could tell he thought it was amusing to keep Peter in the dark, to hold something so big above his head. For Peter knew that if this were not something of magnitude, Lucius Malfoy would not be in the home of a man of the middle class, bordering on lower._

" _My Lord wishes to employ you." Malfoy finally said._

 _Peter's blood froze. "I'm sorry?"_

 _Lucius smile widened, and though his features were undoubtedly handsome, this grin of his was decidedly ugly. "My Lord- T. M. Riddle- wishes to employ you."_

 _Peter frowned. "Why?"_

 _Lucius looked annoyed that Peter hadn't addressed him with more respect, but answered him nonetheless. This worried Peter. Obviously, they wanted him very badly. "You have certain skills that my Lord finds valuable. Your ability to lie, for instance- don't look so surprised. My Lord does his research."_

 _Peter had, in school, been rather good at getting out of trouble. Whenever he was found somewhere he shouldn't be (usually because he had gotten lost), Peter found a way out of the situation. Whether that was insisting that he had been asked to fetch something for a teacher, or because he had seen some poor kid get jumped and needed medical supplies quickly for him, they always believed him. Peter had quickly discovered that the truth didn't work for him- there were only so many times one could get lost, apparently. Peter's sense of direction hadn't gotten the memo._

 _How Tom Riddle could possibly know that was a mystery, though. And Peter didn't think that the ability to lie convincingly was a very admirable quality._

 _At least James Potter had wanted him for his tendency to gather information. Peter and James Potter had gone to the same school- however, Peter was in school longer than James due to the fact that Peter had not been able to go to school every day of the week. This was because of the need to work to help his family pay the rent on their home. James Potter obviously hadn't had this problem, and thus, their paths rarely crossed at school, the renowned Hogwarts. James Potter had been known for his mischief, and Peter had once helped him out with a prank on one of the crueler students, Severus Snape. Peter had simply told James the name of the student that Snape intended to ridicule next in the hopes that James might do something about it. He had heard Snape discussing it with his friends. Snape had a habit of being cruel to those of less wealth than he- this included Peter himself. It wasn't a prank in the traditional sense, but the next time Snape attempted to pick on someone he thought was worth less than he, James Potter had led very many upper class students in a very loud discussion about how wonderful they thought that that once-invisible student was. The little boy hadn't stopped smiling for weeks, and made a boatload of friends, most of which had also been Snape's victims. For the next few weeks, Peter would slip a list to James containing the names of Snape's most likely targets._

 _It had been hilarious watching Snape try to figure out how James knew exactly who to boost up. For once James Potter took notice of you, you were protected by his reputation- if Snape bullied someone James Potter liked, then everyone who liked James (which was quite a lot of people) stuck up for that person. It would have ruined Snape to do such a thing, so he was stuck being unhappy._

 _In school, Peter had only come across James a handful of times, and that had all been years ago- it was nice to know that James had remembered him._

 _Lucius Malfoy, however, just had a stalker of a boss. A very powerful stalker._

" _Why should I join you?" Peter ventured._

 _Malfoy looked around the room distastefully. "My Lord could offer you so much more than this. Money, power- never again would you be looked down upon."_

Except _, Peter thought._ By you _._

 _But the guarantee of safety was tempting. Very tempting. Peter was so tired of living in fear. But if he joined Riddle's ranks, would that change? Or would he be terrified of upsetting his new master? Would joining the Order change that? Or would he still be afraid, but fighting alongside people who were_ willing _to change that?_

 _And Merlin, did he want it to change._

" _I... I'll need some time to think about it." Peter murmured._

 _A look of annoyance flitted across Malfoy's face before it was replaced by his cold smile. "Of course. You have until the end of the week."_

 _With those words, Malfoy let himself out, leaving Peter's door wide open. Cursing, Peter rushed to close it. Once he had, he leaned against it and sighed. Never before had he been so... tired. He just wanted everything to end._

 _But he had a decision to make._

 _James Potter better be worth it._

* * *

Now Peter was pouring James Potter a cup of tea. James accepted it gratefully. Peter grabbed his own cup and sat across James in Peter's sitting room. Peter stared at his teacup.

James cleared his throat. "The tea is good."

Peter nearly snorted. "I'm glad you like it. It's not much, but it's all I have."

Something that looked a bit like pain flashed in James' eyes, as though those words haunted him. "One day, Peter- one day, everyone will have an equal chance, and the class system won't matter."

"One day," echoed Peter.

James smiled and nodded. "One day."

They sat in silence for a moment, and then Peter cleared his throat. "I've decided to accept your offer."

James' face lit up. "Fantastic! That's- thank you, Peter."

Peter smiled at James a bit warily.

James straightened up in his chair. "So, what you'll be expected to do- the founder of the Order will assign you missions to complete. There haven't been any very dangerous missions so far, but you should still be careful- things will start escalating soon. You will most likely be asked to spy on a few people, maybe gather the names of the Death Eaters."

Peter nodded, dread settling in his stomach. He was worried about the war, but something deep down told him that he was making the right decision.

That didn't mean he couldn't doubt himself, though.

Peter sipped his tea. "When is the next meeting?"

James pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "I can't tell you that- security reasons, you see. I'll stop by here the night of the next meeting and bring you to headquarters. If everything goes alright and you're inducted, then you'll be informed about the details for the next meeting. So, keep your schedule cleared for the next few evenings."

Peter nodded. "Okay. This is..." he trailed off, and resumed staring at his tea.

James seemed to understand, though. "Overwhelming? Yeah, it is. But we're doing the right thing. We are standing up to the man who has cost so many people so many things. One day, every risk will have been worth it."

Peter sighed, glad that James had reassured him. "I look forward to that day."

James' smile turned sad. "So do I, Peter. So do I."

* * *

Four nights after his chat with James, there was a knock at the door. After peeking out the window to make sure that this was James (He was getting tired of grabbing the poker), Peter headed to the door to open it.

James grinned at him. "Grab your cloak. It's chilly tonight."

 _Well,_ thought Peter. _It_ is _winter_.

He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders, then followed James out into the dark night. The light was gone, and the stars were a blinding white splattered against a deep indigo canvas sky. It was too beautiful a night to be doing something illegal- then again, maybe Riddle's laws were to ugly for such a beautiful world.

It was something to think about, at least.

Soon enough, Peter found himself in someone's basement, surrounded by fewer people than he had expected. Riddle was making it seem like the Order was a big, impending threat- in reality, the Order was a small band of less than fifty people. The people in here weren't big, or powerful, or strong. They looked as though they had been chosen off the street.

This made Peter feel _so_ much better.

These people didn't look particularly impressive, though they undoubtedly had great talents to be chosen for the Order. These people would not act as though they were more than him, because some of them weren't. These people were united under a single cause: overcoming the oppression that had fallen over their city.

And Peter was one of them now.

Albus Dumbledore. Aberforth Dumbledore. Fabian and Gideon Prewett. James Potter. Marlene McKinnon. Dorcas Meadowes. Even Sirius Black, whose entire family had been pro-Riddle. All of these men and women had taken up the call and had risked all they knew to end this misery. Peter was both proud and terrified to be a part of them.

Whether he should be afraid or prideful he did not know- but he could not deny he loved the thrill.

* * *

Two days later, a factory caught fire, the women who worked there locked inside it. Out of one hundred eighty-five women there, only ninety-six were rescued in time. The remaining eighty-nine perished.

The officials called the fire an accident, but very few were fooled.

It was a case of arson, caused by Riddle.

Among the dead were Myrtle Warren and Olive Hornby. Both were old classmates of Riddle's, and, while they hadn't liked one another, they hadn't been fond of Riddle, either. Olive's fiancé had turned down one of Riddle's men the previous week, a promotion of sorts that they were offering him. Knowing that his future wife wanted children someday, he had declined, choosing to keep the job with less hours so he could spend more time with those children. The children he would now never have. Thanks to the fire.

 _Thanks to Riddle._

He committed suicide three days later.

So when Lucius Malfoy came knocking on Peter's door, Peter's hands began to sweat profusely.

When Lucius Malfoy asked if Peter had decided to join Riddle's ranks or not, Peter had gulped and replied, "If I do, can I back out if it doesn't suit me?"

When Lucius Malfoy assured him he could, Peter knew he was lying.

When Lucius Malfoy once more asked for his answer, Peter said, "Could I have one more week? This is a big decision."

When Lucius' grey eyes bore into him, Peter feared for his life.

And his heart nearly stopped when Lucius said that he could have one more week, but no more.

 **A/N: So... what do you think? I'm sorry if it's not up to scratch- I've been sick all week. I really hope that this Peter chapter was worth the wait. And don't worry- Remus is back next chapter. :) Tell me your thoughts, and please inform me of any mistakes I might have made. Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for more. :) I am SO SORRY for the late update. I had this awful case of writer's block, and honestly, I'm still not entirely sure I like the outcome, at least the first part. I really hope you guys like this one, because I quite like the ending. Sorry this is so short, but I didn't want to be tedious and drag it out.**

 **Man, chapter twelve snuck up on me. Seems like just a couple days ago I was posting chapter one. Anyway, thanks to all those who favorited/followed/reviewed- it means the world to me. Oh, and I wanted to clear one thing up, just in case anyone was confused: Peter's chapter song is History Has Its Eyes On You because he feels as though whatever he chooses, he will be remembered for, for better or worse. And he's right, isn't he?**

 **WARNING: There is some pretty intense violence at the end of this chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Stronger (Finding Neverland)**

 **Chapter 12**

Sirius Black was finally meeting Remus Lupin.

Frank had arranged it. He was sitting in the Hog's Head, cradling a glass of water in his hands. He was a bit nervous- his last encounter with Remus hadn't exactly ended in sunshine and rainbows.

Yet, he owed everything he was today to Remus. Remus had talked him away from his alcohol- Sirius still drank, heavily on really bad days, but his mind was clearer now than it had been since Regulus died. Remus had verbally hit him in the head, knocking some sense into him. That was why Sirius wanted to recruit him to the Order. Someone with that much passion and such a way with words could turn people to their cause. Not to mention the fact that Remus had inside knowledge on one of Riddle's most terrifying prisons- the mines.

Information like that... that could be useful. Very useful.

"You wanted to see me?"

Sirius looked up. There stood Remus, his worn clothes hanging loosely off of his thin frame, his eyes more tired than the last time Sirius had seen him. Sirius grinned. "I did. Take a seat."

Remus pulled out a chair and sat, arching an eyebrow in Sirius' direction. "Being seen with someone like me won't ruin your reputation?"

Sirius snorted. "What reputation? I'm already disgraced, disowned, and named a blood traitor. Sorry my friend, but you can't sully my name any more than I've already sullied it."

Remus gave a reluctant smile. "What did you call me here for?"

Sirius leaned forward. "I'll tell you soon. We have to keep up the pretense. Two men going out for a drink. When we stumble drunkenly home I'll let you know."

Remus stared at him a moment. Finally, he said, "But I don't drink."

Sirius grinned and pushed a bottle towards Remus. "Gillywater. Got it just for you. Anyone watching will just think it's alcohol."

Remus popped open the bottle tentatively and took a sip. He nodded. "Clever. So, can you tell me _anything?"_

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe when the place gets a little louder. Less people can listen in that way."

Remus nodded again. "Small talk?"

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. He thought for a moment, then asked something he'd been wondering for a while. "You find a job yet?"

Remus' eyes darkened and he looked away. "Yeah," he mumbled. "A factory job."

Sirius chugged down some whiskey silently cursing all those stupid people who had refused Remus something better. "Sorry mate. What do you have to do?"

Remus frowned. "Handle the machinery." He shuddered. "It's awful in there," he admitted in a hollow voice. "Just the other day, a- boy no older than fourteen got- he got caught in the machinery." Remus' eyes were haunted.

Sirius tasted bile in his mouth. "Merlin," he breathed. "That's..."

Remus' voice shook as he continued. "He was just a child. I saw- he was a few meters away from me in the lineup. His hand- his hand was stuck first, and then he was up to his e-elbow..." Tears pricked at Remus' eyes, and Sirius felt the same thing happen to him. "A few of us rushed over, but he was too far in. His screams, Sirius. They... I can never forget those screams. And the blood... Oh Merlin, the _blood_..."

Sirius felt sick. Remus had had to watch a kid get torn to shreds by the machinery in a factory, and what had Sirius been doing? Eating a roast, probably. A roast he hadn't had to even work for.

Remus took another swig of his gillywater like it really _was_ something stronger, his knuckles white because he was gripping the neck of the bottle too hard. "Merlin, Sirius, when will it end? That kid, that boy- he had a future. Riddle's harsh laws forced him to find work, work in the worst, most dangerous environment possible, and now he's dead. Because Riddle doesn't care. The lower class can just die out, until all that's left is Riddle and his followers! And my friend- my friend is bringing a child into this world! I swear, Sirius, I won't let that kid fall into the same situation. That kid is going to go to school, get a proper education, and have that chance to do great things! Life can't... it just can't get any worse."

Remus clutched the bottle tightly, his head bowed. He looked so broken and _tired_ that Sirius wondered how he was even standing.

"Listen, Remus. It can get _better_."

Slowly, Remus' amber orbs met Sirius' silver ones. "When?"

Sirius suddenly let out a loud giggle. "S'course you can walk me home," he slurred. "Might have an'r bottle there."

Remus, catching on, stood up, swaying to keep up the act. "Right-o."

Remus stumbled over, as though drunk to where Sirius was, and Sirius swung an arm around Remus' shoulders. The two left their bottles abandoned on the table behind them, and staggered out of the pub. Anyone watching would have thought that two drunk men were on their way home.

Once safely hidden in Grimmauld Place, Sirius turned to Remus. "I'll put the kettle on. That alcohol was _bad_."

Remus laughed weakly, looking around with wide eyes. Feeling suddenly self-conscious about the state his home was in, Sirius said, slightly defensively, "What?"

Remus shook his head, a deep flush taking over his features. "It's just- Merlin, this is going to sound so stupid..." Remus cleared his throat, as though deeply embarrassed. "I've never had nearly this much money. Merlin, that vase is worth more than I can make in half a _year_."

He had pointed to a rather ugly purple vase that Sirius had been meaning to throw out (It had been a favorite of his mother's). Immediately, Sirius felt terrible. He had dragged this man into his home, without thinking of how it might make Remus feel. Remus, who had had to work for everything he had, who had been imprisoned for trying to keep his family alive, was in the home of someone who had never known the pangs of hunger, or the desperation that drove him to theft.

No. Sirius was a man who had never been hungry, who had always had a roof over his head. Even when he had been disowned at sixteen, his uncle Alphard had given him a heaping of gold. Sirius had searched for a job (the money wouldn't last forever), and finding one hadn't been difficult. He had taught children to ride the horses in the local stable downtown. It had been something he had enjoyed doing, and it had paid well- not very many people in Hogsmeade could ride a horse, and parents were eager to give their kids an experience they never had. Of course, all that had been cut short when Regulus and his parents had died- then Sirius had gone back to being the lonely, wealthy aristocrat. Never needing to steal. Never knowing starvation. Never scraping the bottom of the barrell, accepting jobs that he was overqualified for.

Not like Remus Lupin had.

And it made Sirius wonder. What, exactly, had he done to deserve a comfortable life? What made him more worthy than Remus? What had _Remus_ done to deserve less than he?

There was no answer but one: life wasn't fair.

It was infuriating to know that no matter how hard you fought, there would always be good people who suffered.

He was hellbent on decreasing that number.

Sirius cleared his throat. "It's an ugly vase, though."

Remus laughed awkwardly. "That it is, Sirius. That it is."

Silence reigned for a moment, before Sirius huffed in frustration. "This is ridiculous. I don't care that you can't afford what's in here. I don't even _like_ any of it. Can we just- just sit in the sitting room and pretend that we're exactly the same in social standing?"

Remus shrugged. "We can pretend, Sirius. But we can't _believe_ it."

Sirius didn't like the sound of that.

But the two men walked to the sitting room all the same. Sirius went to the kitchen to make the tea, and then handed a mug to Remus upon his return.

Remus breathed in deeply, his eyes closed. Without opening them, he asked Sirius, "What did you want to talk about?"

Sirius took a sip of his own tea. "I want to invite you to join the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus' head snapped up, amber eyes flying open. "You- what?"

Sirius nodded, slightly amused by Remus' reaction. "I want you to join the Order of the Phoenix."

The mug slipped from between Remus' fingers and shattered below him, tea staining the rug. Remus yelped and crouched down, picking up the larger shards. "I'm so sorry-" he spluttered. "I just- it was a major shock, and I-"

Sirius hauled Remus away from the glass, shaking his head. "It's alright, no harm done, I don't use the mugs that often anyway. But I need an answer to my ques- Remus, you're bleeding."

The two men looked down at Remus' hands, one of which had been cut by the remains of the mug.

"Oh." Remus said, still a bit dazed. " _Oh_. I'm fine, honestly- it's just a bit of blood. I- yes."

Sirius, who was examining Remus' hand, looked up. "Huh?"

"Yes." Remus began nodding eagerly. "Yes, I want to join the Order. I've been wanting to, actually."

Sirius looked up at Remus, disbelieving for a second, before his face broke out in a contagious grin. "Well, that certainly makes my job a lot easier."

Remus' grin matched his, but then it faltered. "Sirius- if we win, and Riddle is overthrown, then who controls the government?"

Sirius blinked, astounded that he had never thought of that question. "Well," he began slowly. "I don't really know. We'll talk about that the next meeting, I promise- maybe we could come up with some ideas. What kind of... what kind of government would be best?"

Remus' eyes were alight, and Sirius just knew that inside that skull of his, Remus' brain was in overdrive. "Maybe... a democracy. Where everyone, no matter social class, gets a say in the happenings of the government." Remus was growing excited. "And schools that were tuition-free, so every child could have an equal chance at a basic education, at least. Then we can get rid of child labor, and we can fix the justice system, and-"

"Hang on there, Remus!" laughed Sirius. "I admire your spirit, but we have to focus on one thing at a time." He regarded Remus curiously for a moment. "You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?"

Remus turned a bit red. "There's, er- a lot of time to think in prison."

That sobered Sirius right up. "Oh. Right. Er- sorry."

Remus smiled sadly. "Not your fault."

Sirius watched his friend for a moment. There was a cloud of grief shrouding this man, a wall of distrust of the world at large encasing him. And yet, there was that small candle flame of hope, one that refused to be snuffed out. And Sirius prayed that no matter how wet the wick of that candle got, it would stubbornly burn on.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange smiled cruelly at the man cowering below her.

"Benjy Fenwick," she murmured softly. "Caught carrying a list of names. Names of the men and women that the Dark Lord wishes to recruit to his services. Now tell me- what would a common cloak-maker like you _possibly_ want with that?"

Benjy spat out blood, his body quivering, but he still glared up at Bellatrix defiantly. "Just a bit of paper I found on the street."

Bellatrix leaned in, until her nose was almost touching his. Bottomless black pits of insanity bore into blue pools of pain and despair. His brown hair, normally shaggy, was now plastered to his head and black with blood. He was exhausted, and he had just about reached his pain limit, but still within him was the firm belief that he was doing something right. And this proved to Bellatrix that, whatever else came from this man's mouth, he was still defying Riddle. And there was no way for him to redeem himself.

Her blood red lips twisted into a horrible mockery of a smile. " _Liar_."

His eyes widened in pure, unadulterated terror. "Please. I did nothing. _I did nothing wrong!"_

The smile fell from Bellatrix's face and a sneer replaced it. "My lord does not tolerate liars. And I do not tolerate anything that dares to threaten my lord. Even a man as _pathetic_ as you."

Her dark hair spilled over onto his face, which had become translucent. Gently, she pressed her lips to his bloody cheek, kissing it almost lovingly.

"Please," Benjy sobbed. "Please. I can't. _I can't_."

Bellatrix blinked slowly, her heavily lidded eyes not enough to mask the madness within. "My lord would have been a good ruler for you. Just and fair, he gives everyone what they deserve."

His body too broken to protest, too weak to even lift his hands to brush her hair off her face, all Benjy could do was shake and weep, and beg for a miracle that would not come. "Please. Have mercy. Please. Let me go. Please. _Please_. _Please!"_

She watched as his tears and snot mixed with the red and purple on his face. Every man, no matter how strong, could break. And this man had shattered under her fingertips. It made her feel powerful. It made her feel _alive_.

She slid out a silver dagger from her belt, the moonlight from the single window in the basement of the Lestrange Manor glinting off of it. It was beautiful. Deadly. Just like her.

And down here, his pitiful begging- his dying _screams-_ would be lost in the night.

She looked back at Benjy. She placed the tip of the knife against his left nostril. "Oh, my dear Benjy Fenwick. You lost your place in my lord's world the moment you sought out the Order."

"I'm sorry!" he wailed, his throat raw and his voice broken. " _I'm_ _sorry!"_

She sighed, her breath ghosting across Benjy's flesh. "But not sorry enough to give me names. Not sorry enough to tell me how you really got the list."

His shoulders shook, and he was gasping for air frantically, but he still refused to say a word to condemn his fellow Order members.

Benjy's fingers littered the floor around her. That line of questioning had not worked. She had gotten all she could from him.

With the hand that was not holding the knife, Bellatrix cupped Benjy's cheek. She stroked her thumb across his cheekbone, wiping away the tears almost like a loving caress. "But know that, no matter what you say, no matter what you do," She whispered so softly her words might as well have been the whistling of the wind. "because of your actions tonight, you deserve exactly what you will be getting."

She kissed his brow, and the screaming began.

After all, only pieces of Benjy Fenwick were ever found.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Time for chapter thirteen. Sorry about the darkness of the last chapter, but it was necessary. I'm working on forwarding the plot, because honestly, I'm pretty sure you all are bored with the lack of action. I just didn't want to rush anything, and I ended up going too slow. Oh well. Practice makes perfect.**

 **So, anyway, thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed, you guys are what keeps this story alive. :D I really hope you like this chapter, it's a whopper.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **The Story of Tonight (Hamilton)**

 **Chapter 13**

Remus walked sullenly towards the Longbottom residence after another long day at the factories. Try as he might, he still could not think of that house as his home. Perhaps because he felt like an outsider, the only Lupin in a house full of Longbottoms. Not that he was ungrateful- no, he was very thankful that Frank had so generously welcomed him in. No, Remus just tired of being unable to take care of himself. He was an independent man, and he was very uncomfortable when he had to depend on others.

Remus scrubbed a hand over his face. Working at the factory was exhausting, and Remus just wanted to sleep for a few days. But alas, there was money to earn, and food to spend it on.

Remus recalled the boy who had been caught in the machinery. He had been lively and eager, a big dreamer. He had often filled the stifling room with his mindless, yet cheery and welcome, chatter. He had talked about the sister that he adored at home, and the girlfriend that he loved dearly and was going to propose to at the end of the month, when he got his next payroll and could afford a ring. He had spoken of his plans to escape Hogsmeade, and make a living as a tailor in a small town where no one had ever heard of Tom Riddle.

Now, a mother was weeping, a sister would not make new memories with her big brother, and a young girl would never know if her lover had loved her as much as she had loved him.

The world was cruel. That's why Remus was totally devoted to making a new one.

He entered the Longbottom's home, closing the door softly behind him. Tonight was the night of his first Order meeting, and he half hoped that nobody would be home, so he didn't have to lie about where he was going.

"Remus? Is that you?"

Ah. No such luck.

"Yes, Augusta, it's me," Remus answered.

Augusta poked her head around the door to the kitchen. "Come in here, boy, and warm your bones. I hate thinking of you in those blasted workshops. Eat something, rest. Merlin knows you expect too much of yourself."

Remus nodded, privately wondering how Augusta would react if she found out that he was intending to work even harder. Something told him that it would not be pretty.

But he obediently entered the kitchen, and accepted the tea she set in front of him.

"How was your day?" he asked politely as she forced an apple into his hands.

She huffed. "Like all my other ones. When you get to be my age, your days don't come with much variety."

Remus laughed a little, but Augusta sent him a look that silenced him.

She sighed. "I suppose nowadays, all I want is to see a little change. A little less of this doom and gloom, and a little more happiness. Like when I was young." Augusta smiled softly. "Those were the days. Everybody chatting happily, without watching what they were saying, children playing out in the streets, people mingling outside of the social class system- in those days, the only thing they let you know was if someone could match you in wealth or not! Of course, then Riddle comes along with his ideas that money equals power, and that there is a certain way that people must be. Bloody ridiculous, if you ask me, but I'll give him this- he can be damn persuasive when he wants to be."

Remus hunched his shoulders. "I don't remember a time before Riddle."

Augusta snorted, looking bitter. "That's because when you were born, he had already begun poisoning our society. I don't even recognize the place anymore."

Remus furrowed his brow. Quietly, he stated, "I don't want Frank's child to grow up in this world."

Augusta's eyes looked watery. "Neither do I," she admitted softly. "Oh, Remus, neither do I."

They heard the door open, and Remus quickly bit into his apple while Augusta hurriedly blinked her unshed tears away.

"Mum? Remus? Are you there?"

"Frank," Augusta muttered. Then, louder, she called, "In the kitchen!"

Frank hurried inside. "Hullo, Mum. Hullo, Remus."

Remus smiled wanly. "Hullo, Frank. Nice day?"

"Yeah, work was fine." Frank said distractedly. "Hey, listen, I'm taking Alice shopping for the baby tonight- we might not buy anything, she just wants to take a look around, you know? To see what we can afford for him."

"Or her." Augusta and Remus automatically corrected.

Frank grinned. "Yeah. Or her."

Remus pursed his lips. "Are you sure you want to go out tonight? It's dark already, and Alice is with child- do you really want to risk it?"

Frank waved his concern aside. "We'll be fine. We're tough. Besides, it'll be good for Alice to get out of the house."

Augusta narrowed her eyes. "What's wrong with saving all this until daylight?"

"Alice loves the nighttime," Frank answered simply. "She loves the stars. I just want to make her happy."

Remus sighed inwardly. Worry for his friend was gnawing at his insides, but at the same time, he knew how Frank felt. There came a time when you just couldn't hide anymore. Humans weren't meant to be caged in.

"Be safe," he said instead. "I worry about you."

Frank's eyes softened. "I know. And I worry about you. But we'll be okay- we won't go anywhere secluded, and we'll stay around people. Alright?"

"You get caught," Remus joked. "and I won't be breaking you out of prison."

Frank laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

There were footsteps, and then Alice appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. She had woken from her nap, it seemed. "Hello. Did everyone have a good day?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, Alice," and Remus passed her his untouched tea. She took it gratefully.

"How's the baby?" Augusta asked gently. She may be a very strict and intimidating woman, but she seemed almost _giddy_ about the prospect of getting a grandson.

Yes, it scared Remus too.

Alice smiled warmly. "Oh, he's fine- did Frank tell you where we'd be tonight?"

Remus nodded. "Have fun window-shopping."

Alice took a sip of her tea. "Oh, yes, I'm so excited. Of course, we can't buy very much yet, since we don't know the gender of the baby. Or how much these things cost. Do you all think the baby will be a boy or a girl?"

"Girl," Remus said, at the same time Frank said, "Boy."

Augusta and Alice laughed. "I think it will be a boy," Alice said thoughtfully. "What do you think, Augusta?"

"A boy, of course," Augusta said promptly. "We Longbottoms always seem to have them first."

Realizing he was outnumbered, Remus shrugged. "Hey, don't come crying to me when your baby girl feels like a disappointment because her _whole family_ wanted a boy-"

"- and don't come crying to us when our baby boy won't speak to you because his Uncle Remus insisted that he'd be a girl." Frank shot back.

Remus' eyes widened when he processed Frank's words. _Uncle Remus?_ Would Frank really let him be that close to the baby- close enough to be considered part of the family? Remus' heart warmed at the thought.

It was then that he realized that he wanted to be that close to the baby. He wanted to be there when the baby took their first steps, when the baby first went to school, when they were on their first date...

Well, maybe he was getting a little carried away. But the point was, Remus wanted to be a constant presence in the baby's life. He wanted his honorary niece or nephew to know that they could come to him with anything, that he would always be there to pick them up when they fell down. He wanted to protect this baby, and he wanted to fill the role of uncle _so badly_. His whole being yearned for it, and he felt his face break into the widest, truest grin he'd worn since before his arrest.

Frank wanted him to fill that role. Frank trusted him to be a part of his child's life- a very important part.

Remus' heart sang.

Augusta sighed, breaking his out of his reverie. "Well, I suppose that leaves me and Remus here tonight."

A flash of guilt tore through Remus. He had his first Order meeting tonight. "Actually," he began awkwardly. "I've got to go somewhere tonight."

The three Longbottoms turned to stare at him in surprise. "Where?" Frank asked incredulously.

"Work." It wasn't technically a lie- the Order would be work, but he let the Longbottoms assume that he meant working overtime at the factory.

Frank scowled. "You don't need to work so hard, Remus-"

"Yes, I do," Remus interrupted. "Now more than ever, with the baby on the way. You'll need all the help you can get."

Frank frowned, but didn't argue. Remus released a breath of relief.

"Well," Alice said, standing up. "Frank and I'd best be off-"

"Me too," Remus agreed, glancing at the clock.

The three of them paused in the front doorway, looking guiltily over their shoulders at Augusta.

The oldest Longbottom rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't look at me like that. You're young- live a little before it's too late. Go on, shoo!"

Laughing, the two young men and the young woman departed, shutting the door behind them.

* * *

Remus walked briskly towards 12 Grimmauld Place, pulling the hood of his cloak low over his face for anonymity. He hunched his shoulders and kept his head bent low. The last thing he wanted was to attract unwanted attention.

He knocked softly on the door, and footsteps hurriedly approached.

"Who is it?" a familiar voice spoke through the door.

Remus leaned towards the crack between the door and the wall. "Remus Lupin," he whispered.

The door opened. Sirius stood in the doorway, grinning and ushering Remus inside.

Remus pulled down his hood once the door was shut firmly behind him. Sirius turned to face him, dark hair swinging around his face. "Are you alright? Cold?"

Remus shook his head, even though he was, in fact, rather chilly. "I'm fine. When does the meeting start?"

Sirius smirked knowingly, but didn't call Remus out on his lie. "We're just waiting for a few more people. You should wait in the sitting room- we wouldn't want anyone to see you and think we've been found out."

Remus agreed, though both men knew that the idea that he could be a Death Eater was laughable. His scars were the only thing that might make someone mistake him for one, but everyone who knew him knew that Remus was too smart to be baited by empty promises.

So he waited, Sirius with him, in the sitting room until all the Order members had arrived. Then, Sirius led Remus down to his basement, through a hidden trapdoor in his pantry floor.

They descended the dark stairs slowly, Remus' heart in his mouth. This was it. This was his chance to change things. He felt awful about lying to Frank, Alice, and Augusta, but he was doing this to keep them safe. It was justifiable.

So he was rather surprised when he spied to of the people crowded around the table the Order sat at when conducting meetings.

His jaw dropped. "Alice? _Frank?"_

They both jumped and looked at him. Frank's eyes bugged out. " _Remus? You're_ the new recruit?"

Sirius' grin stretched wider than the cheshire cat's. "I see you three know each other."

Remus and Frank both opened their mouths to retaliate- or maybe to interrogate the other- but a tall man with a long white beard and half-moon spectacles cleared his throat.

"Sirius," he said quietly, looking amused. "Perhaps you'd like to introduce the rest of us to your friend."

Sirius nodded eagerly, looking like an excited puppy. "Right-o, sir. Mates, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, that there is Albus Dumbledore-" he pointed to the man who had spoken earlier. "-and this is my good mate, James Potter."

A man with messy black hair and glasses came over to shake his hand. Remus could hardly believe it. He knew the name Potter- everyone knew the name Potter. He just hadn't expected to ever _meet_ him.

Sirius continued the introductions. "Marlene McKinnon- yes, she _is_ as annoying as everyone says-"

"Shut up, Black!" snapped Marlene irritably. "That got old the first hundred times you said it."

"- and that's Caradoc Dearborn, Aberforth Dumbledore, Alastor Moody- we call him Mad-Eye, he's got this glass eye, but don't let him take it out near you, it's disgusting. Then we have Mary McDonald, Dorcas Meadowes, Fabian and Gideon Prewett..."

He went on to introduce every Order member, and Remus was a bit overwhelmed by all the names, but he thought he could manage.

Once introductions were finished, Albus leaned forward to address them all. "Now, to more serious matters." His expression turned grave. "Alastor, if you would share with the Order your findings."

Moody scowled. "I was walking around town the other night when I found this." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a large scrap of cloth. It appeared to be deep purple in color, and very well made.

It was also covered in blood.

Moody flipped it over, and there, stitched skillfully into the fabric with gold thread, were the words _Property of Benjy Fenwick_. Remus didn't know who Benjy Fenwick was, but going by the looks on everyone's faces, he had been a close friend.

Moody exhaled, and his voice shook ever so slightly as he added, "A human finger was beside it."

Remus blanched. Mary McDonald was sick in the corner. Marlene McKinnon pressed a hand to her mouth and let out a sob. Everyone else had similar reactions.

James Potter swallowed loudly. "So," he softly said. "Is Benjy... dead?"

Moody looked the bespectacled man square in the eye. "I would be very, very surprised if he were alive."

"But... why?" Alice whispered to no one in particular.

Albus shook his head sadly. "I can only guess. But I think it might have something to do with the list he was trying to obtain- the list of Death Eater names."

Sirius slammed his fist against the table. "Now we have no leads, and Benjy is dead. Fan-bloody-tastic."

The other Order members seemed equally sad and frustrated. They were mumbling amongst themselves, but Remus wasn't listening. Something had clicked.

"I- I do." he stated softly, eyes widening. This was why Bellatrix Lestrange had warned him against joining the Order. Because he had their names. The Death Eaters had all stopped to survey the mines at one point or another- he had even seen glimpses of Riddle! Bellatrix had been concerned about releasing him because _he had their names!_

"I do," he said louder, more clearly. " _I_ know their names."

They all turned to look at him in disbelief. "Sorry?" the red-headed woman- Lily- asked. "What do you mean?"

"I know their names," Remus repeated. "The Death Eaters- that's what the town is calling them, right?- _I know their names_."

James was looking at him in amazement. "How?"

Here, Remus hesitated. Was he ready to tell all these people- practically strangers- that he was a former inmate? That was a big step, and Remus wasn't a very open person. His time in the mines had increased the amount of suspicion he held towards others. Besides, it was something of an embarrassment to him. That hadn't been a period of his life that he had been proud of. And, even though his actions were justified, a part of him hated himself for having to stoop so low. Would they think badly of him? Of the thief that he was? Such a big part of Remus wanted to be _liked,_ because so many people had scorned him and mocked him for his social standing.

He had told Sirius in a moment of weakness. Sirius had been so convincing, despite been so drunk, and he had really gotten to Remus. Because Remus had had something he wanted to get off of his chest. He had wanted _someone,_ even a stranger, to know how much his past was hurting him. And it had certainly helped that there had been a chance Sirius wouldn't even remember the conversation the next morning.

But someone had already died trying to get the information he had. Wasn't his humiliation a smaller price to pay than another innocent life?

"I... I worked in the mines for a while," Remus admitted quietly, avoiding everyone's gaze by staring resolutely at the tabletop. "The Death Eaters rotated shifts there- I know most, if not all, of their names."

Moody regarded him with no small amount of suspicion. "And why were you in the mines, _boy?"_

Remus absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over his arm where his prisoner number was burned into his skin. "I-"

"He kept us from starving, that's what he did!" Frank burst out angrily. Remus was startled to see the rage in his eyes. Frank rarely got angry, and Remus had never seen him this outraged. "I'd be dead by now, if it weren't for him! So you can just shut your-"

"Frank," Remus tried.

"-mouth, because he doesn't deserve your-"

"Frank," warned Alice, loudly.

"-mistrust, you stupid-"

"Alright, alright, I get it!" yelled Moody. "Merlin, I was just being cautious. What do I always tell you lot? Constant vigilance!"

The whole Order rolled their eyes, bar Remus and Albus Dumbledore.

"Anyway," Dumbledore spoke very softly. "Mr. Lupin- may I call you Remus?"

Remus nodded hesitantly.

Albus smiled. "Remus, if you would share the names of the Death Eaters you know, it would be very much appreciated."

Remus nodded, his confidence quickly fleeing. Remembering the names meant recalling the horrible things that had taken place there- maybe not the events, but the jeers, the sneers, the derogatory words.

"Well," he croaked. "There's Bellatrix Lestrange, obviously. Antonin Dolohov. Evan Rosier. There's also- Augustus Rookwood."

That caught everyone's attention. "Rookwood?" Dorcas asked in disbelief. " _Rookwood?"_

Remus nodded, the bile rising up his throat. He hated Rookwood. "And Lucius Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle. And-" Remus' lip curled in distaste. "the Carrows. Amycus and Alecto." It had been the Carrows who had given him his tattoo. One to burn the numbers on, one to hold him down. "Mulciber. Avery."

Remus continued to recite every name of every man and woman he had come to hate, until, finally, there was only one more he could think of.

"-and, lastly, Barty Crouch Jr."

Even Albus' head snapped up at that name. Aberforth exclaimed, "Impossible! Barty Crouch is the most renowned judge in Hogsmeade! How could his son-"

"I don't know," Remus interrupted. "But his son is a nasty piece of work." He shivered. "I don't think he's sane anymore. He's completely devoted to Riddle."

"Merlin," breathed Fabian Prewett. "That's... this is more dire than I thought."

Alice bit her lip. "Is that all, Remus?"

"Yeah." he nodded, swallowing with difficulty. "That's all I can think of. Of course, I won't know any of the new recruits."

"Thank you, Remus," Albus said softly. "I understand that must have been difficult for you."

Remus didn't respond. Dumbledore didn't know what he had been through, and Remus felt that it was insensitive to suggest he did. But he held his tongue, because he knew that Albus had been trying to offer sympathy, not offense. His hand found his arm again.

The Order adjourned shortly after that, and Remus, completely exhausted, stood up to leave with Frank and Alice. As he headed towards the stairs that led to the trapdoor, however, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Remus turned to see James Potter. He immediately tensed, not knowing the man very well yet, and therefore not trusting him.

"Remus," James greeted. He looked very tired, but he was smiling at Remus. "Would you like to join Sirius, Peter and me for a drink before you go? I'm buying."

Remus hesitated. Should he? He only knew Sirius, and even they didn't know each other well- but when he glanced in Sirius' direction, the black haired man was nodding enthusiastically. Remus softened slightly, then turned back to James.

"Er- sure, I guess. If you don't mind."

James grinned. "Of course I don't. I invite you, didn't I?"

Remus chuckled slightly, beginning to warm to James. "I suppose you're right."

"Come on, then." James led Remus out of the house, along with Sirius and Peter. Remus made sure that Frank knew where he was going before following the three men to the nearest tavern- The Three Broomsticks.

The four of them sat down at a table in the corner, away from prying eyes and listening ears. They told Remus about how they had come to join the Order, and Sirius told him that without Remus' angry speech in the pub where they met, he'd have never had the good sense to pull his head out of the alcohol. Remus was just glad that he hadn't taken his angry shouts as offense.

James passed around some butterbeers, which Remus was comfortable with drinking. Then, the small talk had begun.

"So," Peter said after a moment. "That was a lot of good information, Remus. I'm glad Sirius had the good sense to invite you to join the Order."

Remus blushed a bit, and stared at his drink. "I'm just happy I could help." He swallowed. "I'm only sorry that I couldn't have gotten that information to you before-" he stopped, but his unsaid words hung heavily in the air. _-before Benjy Fenwick died_.

Peter put a pudgy hand on Remus' arm. "The important thing is, you stopped the same thing from happening to someone else."

Remus smiled gratefully at him.

"So, er, Remus," James said, clearing his throat. "Any reason you have an aversion to alcohol?"

Flashes of beating from drunken supervisors in the mines flashed through Remus' mind, and the hours of agony that came after, forced to continue working despite his injuries. He flinched slightly at the question, and clasped the bottle in front of him, trying to still his shaking hands. "I don't like violent drunks."

James looked up in surprise. "Oh." he said lamely. "Er- sorry for bringing it up."

Remus shook his head, staring at the table, and tried to smile. "It's fine. It's just still- still fresh."

"You don't have to explain," Sirius cut in firmly. "Really. We all have enough on our shoulders right now. The last thing we need is to open old wounds."

Remus privately thought that, eventually, he'd have to face his demons before they distracted him so much that he couldn't focus on the war, but that didn't have to be tonight. No, tonight, they were four acquaintances (friends?) sharing a drink.

James and Peter filled Remus in on the Gaunt ring business. Now, he didn't know much on the matter, but it was nice to have all the facts for a change. Sirius was staring forlornly at his drink, and Remus frowned. He suspected that Sirius was once again thinking about his brother, and he didn't want Sirius to dwell on things that couldn't be changed.

"Oi," he said, nudging Sirius' side with his elbow. "If I can't mope, you sure as hell can't, either."

Sirius laughed. "Alright, alright, Lupin. You've got a point. Don't want to be a hypocrite, do I?"

James snorted into his drink. "I should hope not. I hate hypocrites."

"What's to like?" Peter asked distastefully.

"Absolutely nothing." agreed Remus.

The four men laughed. Remus felt a strange affinity to these men. They were all the odd ones out, in a way. Remus being an ex-inmate, Sirius the epitome of everything his family despised, James and his almost hopeless love life, and Peter and his easily overlooked talents. The four of them found solace in each other, and amidst the shouts and the sour smells of the bar they were in, that night, Remus Lupin felt at home.

Very, very late into the night, when even the Death Eaters were sure to have been in bed, the men were still there, glasses empty and forgotten, chortling at a story James had just told. They were all drunk, but not on alcohol. They were drunk on their newfound friendships, and on the smell of hope they had managed to stick in the air. James poured everyone one last round, and lifted his glass above his head.

"To constant vigilance," he grinned. "and the boatload of trouble we'll be in when Moody realizes we were drinking instead of sleeping, like good little soldiers!"

Sirius raised his glass higher. "To carrying each other home the next time this happens!"

Remus laughed and lifted his own glass. "To cursing each other when our exhaustion catches up to us!"

Peter raised his glass and looked at them a bit nervously. "To new friends." he ventured.

They looked him dead in the eye and echoed, "To new friends."

And they drank on it.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Hey, y'all! So, I hope you liked the last chapter, because, strangely enough, it was really easy for me to write, which is probably why it was longer than the others. So, thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed. You guys are awesome. Siriusly. Ok, I'll stop. ;D**

 **And guys, please- if you see me make any grammatical errors/typos, please PM me so I can fix them! Thanks. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Back to Before (Ragtime)**

Dorcas Meadowes nervously tugged at her long braid. She had been on edge all night, half expecting a bunch of Death Eater to break down her door and cut her to pieces.

Like they had Benjy.

The news of his death had shaken her to the core. Sure, maybe she and Benjy hadn't been especially close, but he had still worked alongside her, she still knew him well- had even considered him as a friend. She used to be annoyed by him, she recalled. He had laughed too much in solemn situations, hadn't seemed to take the Order seriously.

Now she knew that he had. He took the Order so seriously, he gave his life to the cause.

She felt terrible. As soon as she couldn't hear that laughter, that joking personality, see that shaggy brown hair, it was all she could think about. It was funny, how much you take for granted, until you don't have it anymore. Well, this had taught Dorcas one thing: never to take someone in your life for granted.

But if she was being honest with herself, she wasn't just upset about Benjy's death, as horrible as it sounded. She was afraid of how he died. Sure, when signing up for the Order, she had known that she might die. She had been prepared to give her life to make a better world.

Now though... now she knew that it might not be quick. That day, the day after Mad-Eye gave them the news of Benjy's untimely end, people had found bits of him everywhere. And with every finger, every toe that they found, there was a note. A note addressed to the Order, warning them against making another move. If Benjy had been cut to pieces, then she really, _really_ hoped that he had already been killed.

Because if he hadn't...

She shook her head to get rid of those unpleasant thoughts. She was afraid to suffer like he might have. She was ready for a quick gun to the head, knife to the heart, but to be toyed with? To be left bleeding out and screaming, begging, _anyone_ to come help her, _save_ her?

She wasn't ready for that.

Dorcas slowly began unbraiding her hair, her slender fingers moving almost on their own. She was afraid of this war. Everyone was, she knew. But sometimes she just wished that she could make light of the danger, to lift the spirits of those around her, like Benjy had, like James, Sirius and the Prewett twins were doing. But she wasn't that brave.

Dorcas stood up and leaned against the railing of her second-floor balcony. She stared up at the stars, the winter wind whipping her long black hair behind her. Her white nightgown danced about her legs, practically glowing in the moonlight. She was cold, but she wanted to feel as numb on the outside as she was on the inside. The stars really were beautiful that night.

When it began to snow, the clouds covering the stars and moon, she headed inside, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to sleep. She wrapped a red robe around herself and put the kettle on. It would be another sleepless night.

Which was a shame, really, because she had work tomorrow.

Dorcas sat down heavily in a chair and put her head in her hands. If only winning the war was easy. In stories, the hero sets off to slay the dragon, and ten pages later, he finds it and chops its head off in one swift motion. In stories, the hero never dies. Good always wins. Dorcas had always dreamed of being that hero.

As a little girl, she hadn't paid any attention to the fairytales her mother had tried to read her- what use were princesses in an enchanted sleep? Princesses whose prince always saved them, princesses who just sat there and looked pretty while the men got their hands dirty? Dorcas had asked her mother that very question. The answer she had gotten in return was less than satisfactory. _Ladies don't get their hands dirty, Dorcas, dear_. Dorcas had decided then and there that she wanted to be a boy instead, and had told her mother so. Her father was greatly amused by this; her mother less so. And of course, Dorcas didn't really want to be a boy- she just wanted to be the knight instead of the princess. The hero instead of the victim.

Once, when Dorcas was eight, a boy in the local playground had told her that she had to be a princess in the game he and his friends were playing, because girls couldn't be knights.

She had bitten his hand and punched him in the jaw.

Oh, the _hours_ of piano lessons after that. The most dreaded punishment.

Another time, when Dorcas was fifteen, she went on her first date with a nice enough boy. He had mentioned how he wanted to take over his father's store when he was old enough. He had politely asked Dorcas what she wanted to do when she finished school. She had told him that she wanted to be an Auror, the force of men (and a few women) who upheld the law in Hogsmeade. They weren't a member of Riddle's guard, which made them all the more appealing.

The boy had laughed in her face. So she did what came naturally- she broke his nose and ended the date, seething with the injustice of it all.

Women were not weak. They did not have to sit at home and look pretty, cooking and cleaning, and looking after the kids until their husbands got home. Women could be Aurors. Women could be teachers, or fishermen, or _whatever the hell they wanted_.

Unfortunately, the rest of the world hadn't seemed to get the memo.

Which was why, when Caradoc Dearborn had approached her about the Order, she had both been wary of the offer, and jumped at the opportunity. Would the Order treat her as less than the men? Would she always come in second place?

The fears were for naught, however- everyone in the Order had treated her equally and with respect. Some even admired her for her bravery and dedication to the cause. It seemed that most of the men in the Order had had strong female influences in their life.

Dorcas remembered a conversation with her father long ago, the details of which were fuzzy, but one line stood clear:

" _Never let someone tell you that you can't do something, love- we are born to do the impossible."_

She had never forgotten it.

Now, however, she wondered if this was the one thing that truly was impossible. Or maybe, Riddle triumphing was the only truly impossible thing? But- they were losing, so far. So how-?

The kettle whistled, interrupting Dorcas' troubled thoughts. She quickly made herself a cup of tea, then drank it slowly while watching the wind shake the trees outside the kitchen window.

The knock on the door startled her, some of her tea sloshing over the side of the cup and onto her hands. She quickly set the cup on its saucer and wiped her hands on a teatowel before hurrying to the door. She pressed her ear up against it, listening. Friend or foe?

"Dorcas, are you there? It's Marlene and Mary."

Friend, then. She opened the door and ushered the two women inside.

"Are you both alright? Why are you out so late, it's freezing! Did you need something?" she asked frantically. _Please, please, please,_ she thought. _I can't take any more awful news..._

"No," Mary assured her, shrugging off her shawl. "We just wanted to check on you. I hate the thought of you alone in this house when something so sinister is out there."

Just Mary being Mary, then.

"Mary, don't worry about me," protested Dorcas. "I'm fine. I _can_ take care of myself, you know."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Listen, Dorcas, we all know that you are a passionate feminist, but that doesn't have anything to do with our concern for your safety."

Dorcas crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You don't do this to any of the men, like Potter or Black."

"I like you better than Potter and Black." Marlene deadpanned. "And Mary here _did_ do this to the boys- she's worried about everyone."

Dorcas had to admit, that sounded a lot like Mary.

Mary sighed at the both of them. "Honestly, you two, it's like you want me to leave you to the wolves. Merlin, is it a crime to be worried about my friends? Last time I checked, it wasn't!"

Dorcas winced. Mary was right. She had only been concerned over her well-being, and what did Dorcs do? Accuse her of being sexist.

Marlene shook her head. "Calm down Mary, we're sorry. Well. I didn't really do anything-"

Dorcas humphed.

"-but I apologize in advance for the next stupid argument I might get into."

Mary accepted the apology, and Dorcas' mumbled one.

They stood in silence for a moment, each reflecting on different things. Finally, Dorcas said, "Tea, anyone?"

* * *

The three women sat in the sitting room quietly, sipping their tea. Mary had lit a single candle, so as to not alert anyone outside of their presence.

Dorcas twirled a piece of dark hair around her finger. "I've accepted a mission from Dumbledore."

Mary glanced up. "What information are you gathering now?"

Dorcas bit her lip, unsure how her friends would handle the news. "Actually, it's not an intelligence mission. I've- I've agreed to tail Lord Malfoy."

Marlene spat out her tea. Dorcas glared at the brown spot on her rug. "You've- I'm sorry, I think I must have misheard you, Dorcas. I thought you just said that you were stupid enough to spy on _Lord Lucius Malfoy!"_

Dorcas scowled. "I'm not stupid. Someone has to do it, Marlene! And Dumbledore chose me to do it. Me."

Marlene shook her head, her pretty face contorted in anger. "No, Dorcas! That's a suicide mission-"

"Why? I'm only tailing him!"

"Exactly! What if he catches you? What if he reports you? Your life is on the line, here!"

" _Do you think I don't know that?"_ Dorcas hissed scathingly. "After what happened to Benjy? Merlin, Marlene, some things are worth dying for, and if you disagree, then I don't know why you joined the Order in the first place!"

Silence reigned. Mary's eyes were wide, and Marlene was sneering. Dorcas was equally livid.

"It's like talking to a different person," Marlene finally said, softly, but words sharp as ever. "What, Benjy's dead, so we should all die too? So _you_ should die too?"

"No." Dorcas was almost desperate. "Don't you understand? If I can bring even a little good into this world, it will be worth the cost."

"I just don't want to lose you," whispered Marlene. "These past couple of months- they've been the best of my life. Not only because I was finally doing something worthwhile, but because of you."

Dorcas dipped her head in understanding. "I can't just sit down and wait after what they did to Benjy. I have to make sure they can't do anything like that to the next generation. To- to Frank and Alice's child. I won't let them touch those innocent kids."

Marlene closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were clear and bright. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it, come to me. Please."

Dorcas nodded. It was all she could do. She tried to ignore the tears in her eyes.

Mary spoke up. "I'm not as brave as the two of you," she murmured, avoiding their eyes. But then she looked up, and Marlene and Dorcas saw the fire in her eyes. "But I know that I would give my life for you two. I can't go on missions, or spy on people, but I can gather information and help you as best I can."

Dorcas frowned. "I don't know how you can help, Mary."

Mary smirked, something so un-Mary-like that Marlene and Dorcas gaped at her. "Well, do you know how to spy on Malfoy without him figuring you out?"

Dorcas cocked her head to the side. "I was just going to follow him."

Mary shook her head, sighing in disappointment. "Dorcas, Dorcas, Dorcas. _Or,_ you could apply for the new job opening as a member of his staff. His secretary, no less."

Dorcas and Marlene exchanged incredulous looks. Being Malfoy's secretary meant that she would have access to his secret files, official documents, and all his records. She would know what he had paid for, the people who came by to meet with him, and everyone on his staff. She might even be able to smuggle some of those documents to the Order.

Mary McDonald was not to be underestimated.

Dorcas grinned. "Mary, you are a _genius_."

* * *

The next week saw Dorcas sitting at a large oak desk, in a little office on the Malfoy estate- seperate from the manor, of course. She was, very reluctantly, wearing a smart dress. Normally, she wore breeches and a skirt overtop, of which she almost always tucked a bit into her belt, to allow maximum movement. She looked like a farm girl, but she rather thought that it was more practical than something she couldn't move in.

Now, however, she was wishing that women secretaries could trade in the skirts for pants.

Her hair was twisted up into an elaborate do, and the pins holding it in place were sticking uncomfortably into her scalp, giving her a headache.

But Dorcas grinned and bore it, because it was _for the Order_. Still, she couldn't wait to go home and take everything off.

Dorcas sorted through the many papers on the desk, searching for something, anything, of interest. So far, nothing. Malfoy's purchases were all in Order, and he hadn't spent a suspicious amount of money on anything so far. Dorcas mentally sighed. Things would be so much easier if Malfoy would just give her some _evidence_ , already.

Ah, well. Things may be going slowly, but at least she was doing something.

"Miss?"

Dorcas looked up, cursing herself mentally. Why hadn't she heard anyone coming? "Yes, sir?"

In front of her desk stood a man- well, a boy, really, he couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen- with large, protruding ears, and a case of acne severe enough that Dorcas found herself pitying him.

"Well, miss, I work a' the post office, down a little ways, you know the one? An' my boss, Ernie, well, he sent me to deliver this- it's for Lord Malfoy. 'Choo looking at, miss? Somefink wrong?"

Dorcas had been blinking owlishly up at him because, sweet Merlin, she had never heard someone ramble quite so much when all they had to do was deliver a _package_.

"Er- nothing. What did you say your name was?"

The boy blinked, then grinned widely. "Oh, my mistake, miss- 'm Stan Shunpike. 'Choo alright? You look a bit uncomfortable."

Dorcas tried for a smile. "I'm fine, thank you, Stan. Now, you said you had a package for me to give to Lord Malfoy?"

Stan brightened. "Right 'choo are, miss. 'Ere it is."

Dorcas accepted it with thanks, and Stan went on his way. Dorcas looked at the package in her hands. Her heart was racing. Would someone noticed if she opened it?

Wait- maybe better to check for the sender's address. That last thing she needed was to get busted for opening a vase Malfoy's mother sent him.

Her eyes widened when she saw the name. Augustus Rookwood. Another Death Eater, according to Lupin. What was in the box? It was small- about the size of a large book, and Dorcas knew, she just _knew_ , that something important was inside it. After all, that was why she was here- Lupin used to hear Malfoy's name often in the mines, so they had reason to believe that he was important in Death Eater ranks. Important enough to be trusted with one of the objects of power that Riddle was collecting.

What if this was it?

Looking around to make sure that she was truly alone, Dorcas lifted her skirts, grabbed some tape, and strapped the package to her thigh. She dropped her skirts, making sure that the package wasn't obvious, and excused herself to the bathroom.

Once the door was locked behind her, Dorcas sat down on the loo and unstrapped the box from her thigh. She held it in her hands, heart pounding. There was no going back now. She plucked the small dagger that was hidden in a secret pocket of her skirts (for protection), and used it to slit the tape open. She then, very carefully, peeled the tape off of the box, making sure not to leave any evidence that would indicate that the box had been opened. Then she opened the flaps.

She blinked in disbelief. This was... a book.

She picked it up, suddenly glad for the gloves that Marlene had insisted she wear. Examining it, Dorcas realized that this was not a book, but a diary.

The diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Excitedly, Dorcas opened it. This could contain any number of Riddle's secrets, the key to Riddle's destruction _in her hands-_

It was blank.

Page, after page, after page- all blank. Not a single word in sight.

Dorcas' shoulders slumped, and she tried to stave off a wave of disappointment. This wasn't the treasure she thought it had been. But then why had it been sent by the normal post? She had assumed that it had been to avoid any suspicion. Why send it through Rookwood? She had thought that it was because everyone thought that he was opposed to Riddle. Why send Malfoy a blank book?

No, this couldn't be a dud. There were too many questions. She grabbed her knife and with great care and precision, cut the pages of the diary clean out of its binding. Maybe someone in the Order would know something.

Dorcas hurriedly hid the pieces of the diary and walked back to her desk. Scanning the area for any spies, she replaced the actual pages of the diary with new paper, and then resealed the box. She hid the diary's pages, and impatiently waited for the day to end.

* * *

Malfoy gave no sign that anything was amiss throughout the week. Dorcas could breathe safely again. It seemed that Malfoy was under strict orders not to read his master's diary.

She brought up what she had found at the next Order meeting.

Lily frowned. "The pages are blank? All of them? Are you sure?"

Dorcas nodded. "I've studied them countless times. There's nothing there."

Fabian scratched his nose. "But that doesn't make sense. Why would Riddle send Malfoy a blank book? What's so special about that?"

Lupin furrowed his brow. "Could I try something?"

Albus nodded. "Certainly."

Lupin gently took the pages of the book and separated one from the others. He grabbed one of the candles that were around the room, providing light, and held the page over the flame.

"Wait!" gasped Caradoc. "You'll burn-"

But he cut himself off. Writing was appearing on the page, caused by the heat of the flame.

 _August 8th_

 _Hired Barty Crouch Jr. Keep an eye on him until further notice. Need the ring and the cup. Must have all seven._

The entry ended. Lupin held the flame under different sections of the paper, but it seemed that that had been the only entry on the page. Remus set down the page and sat down, folding his hands in his lap. He shifted uncomfortably, presumably because everyone's eyes were on him.

"How did you know to do that?" Dorcas finally asked, awed.

Lupin flushed a bit and tilted his head to the side slightly, gnawing on his lip. "I used to read a lot," he offered quietly. "It came up a couple of times. Invisible ink. Simple enough to make, if it's a simple solution. The more effective ones are more complicated to make."

"You just... _read_ about this?" Moody asked in disbelief.

Lupin stared resolutely at his hands. "Yeah. In the local library. It passed the time."

Dorcas felt a stab of pity for the man. She had never really thought about it, but now that Remus was considered an ex-inmate, he didn't have access to things like the public library. She could easily see him curled up with a book, and somehow, the thought that even that simple pleasure had been robbed from him saddened her.

"Well, I for one don't care how he knows," Potter said. "It works, and now we have Riddle's biggest secrets in our hands. This is perfect!"

"A little too perfect," mumbled Aberforth. "Nothing comes without a price, boy. The question is, what's the cost of knowing the answers?"

Black scowled. "I dunno, maybe Remus spending _four years in the mines?_ Maybe this is compensation for that. Don't you pay _before_ you receive?"

Lupin shook his head. "That wasn't the cost. We got the book for free, but we haven't given anything in return. Whatever the cost is, we'll have to be on the lookout- try to swindle our way out of paying."

Marlene sighed. "The second we get ahead, you guys have to remind us that it can't last."

Mary shrugged. "They're right though, Marlene. The world needs balance."

Dorcas stared at her hands. "What if- what if this is for Benjy's-"

She stopped, and was glad that no one needed her to finish her sentence.

Lily closed her eyes. "No," she said softly. "We got the Death Eater names for that."

"But that's not enough!" screamed Dorcas. "They killed him! They _killed_ him, and you're saying that all that came out of it was a few _names?_ They ended his life! _He's gone!"_ She gasped, her emotions finally pouring out of her. "He's gone. The names- they aren't enough. Nothing can ever be enough. But there should be more than just a _few damned names."_

No one spoke. They were all silent, Dorcas' words echoing in their heads. Her words rang true, and it was a blow the whole Order felt.

Finally, Moody spoke up. "Lass, life's not fair, and there's nothing we can do about it but move on. Fenwick-" Here he faltered, but then he cleared his throat and kept going. "Fenwick was a good man. But he wouldn't want you to hang on to him like this. There will be more deaths in this war. You need to learn to look past the casualties."

Oh, Dorcas knew in her heart that he was right. But that didn't mean she had to like it.

Emmeline Vance looked nervously at Dorcas to see if she'd explode before changing the subject. "The diary. Back to the diary. Riddle said that he needed the ring and the cup. Obviously, he got the ring- or, he _had_ the ring, thanks to Fabian and Gideon. But what cup was he talking about?"

The Order pondered this for a few minutes. Not even Albus Dumbledore seemed to have any ideas.

Finally, Alice snapped her fingers. "I've got it! Something my mum used to tell me before bed each night. Hufflepuff's Cup."

" _Whose_ cup?" Gideon asked.

Alice grinned. "Helga Hufflepuff's. Hogsmeade had four founders, right? Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, and Godric Gryffindor. Helga was known for being very kind and accepting- everything that Riddle is not. Her Cup was her symbol- they said that as long as the Cup had wine in it, Hogsmeade would prosper."

Caradoc scoffed. "That's a load of dung if I've ever heard one."

Alice shook her head. "There's more. Helga kept wine in it every day- the day someone knocked it over and spilled the wine, she died. Some people think that without the Hufflepuffs, the Cup can't work."

Mary frowned. "So, you're saying that there's this Cup that can make people happy? That can ensure the prosperity of Hogsmeade?"

"No, no," Alice said. "It's not magical. It's the idea, you see- people believe that as long as the Cup is filled with wine, they will come out stronger than any opposing force."

"And Riddle wants the Cup," Frank finished, understanding. "because it is a symbol of hope. And it's such a powerful symbol, no one will risk destroying it. Like the ring."

" _Exactly_." Alice agreed.

"And Riddle said there were seven," Marlene cut in excitedly. "The ring, the cup- and what?"

Hestia Jones, a newer member of the Order, raised her voice. "If there were four Founders, did the other three have powerful symbols?"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, eyes twinkling. "Indeed, Miss Jones. Ravenclaw had a diadem. Slytherin had a locket. And Gryffindor had a sword."

"I remember those legends!" Black exclaimed suddenly. "But the sword- isn't that in Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore nodded. "So, we know for sure that that particular item won't fall into Riddle's hands. The question is, besides the ring, the Cup, the locket, and the diadem, what powerful objects is he collecting?"

Potter chewed worriedly on his lip. "You don't think... Riddle sent the diary to Malfoy, right? But why do that when no one even knew he had a diary- it would have been safer with him. What if- what if the diary is not just valuable because of the secrets it holds, but because it in itself is an even bigger secret? What if the diary is one of the objects of power?"

Everyone gaped at him. Black blurted, "When did _you_ get so smart?"

Suddenly, Aberforth laughed. "You, boy, you're on to something!"

"Well." Frank smiled. "At least now we know what we're looking for. A locket, a diadem, a Cup, and two other things."

"I think we can worry about that tomorrow." Albus said gently. "For now, everyone go home and rest. And remember, stay safe. Mr. Black, would it be alright with you if I left the diary in your basement? It is the best-hidden place I can think of at the moment."

Black smiled easily. "Of course, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded at him. "Thank you. Good night to you all."

With that, the Order dispersed, and Dorcas felt better about the evening. She was still upset over Benjy's death, but at least now they were getting somewhere. Over the course of the next few weeks, they would examine the diary- but for now, Dorcas could sleep.

 **A/N: Alright, guys, longer chapter than usual, I know. Anyway, just wanted to say, thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story so far- I'm having so much fun writing it! :D But siriusly, things are going down in the next couple of chapters, so stay tuned! (And, all those wondering about Peter- keep an eye out for chapter 16.)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey, y'all! How's it going? I, for one, have been exhausted all week. :( Anyway, though, I'm giving you a chapter! Yay! *screams and applause* Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed- you guys are the best! :D**

 **Enjoy!**

 **No One Is Alone (Into the Woods)**

 **Chapter 15**

Lily Evans shivered as the biting wind slammed into her face. All exposed flesh stung, but Lily didn't wish to be warm right then- the bad weather reflected the unforgiving atmosphere that had been draped over Hogsmeade ever since she could remember.

She exhaled, her breath condensing into a frosty cloud in front of her before being whisked away by the wind. It began to snow. This was a long, bitter winter. Somehow, though, Lily couldn't even imagine a summer with Riddle in it. It was almost as if Mother Nature was waiting to reward the Order with sunshine when they defeated Riddle.

A tiny part of her thought that, if that was the case, this winter would be an eternal one.

Lily closed her eyes, the crystalline snowflakes like drops of fire on her face. She was tired. She was so, so tired. She admired her fellow Order members- especially Potter and Black- because no matter how high the cost grew, they always had the strength to carry on. Lily, on the other hand, just wanted the war to hurry up and finish so she could _sleep_.

As she rounded a corner, Lily saw a dark-haired man huddled against a street sign. The snow was settling on his head and shoulders, and he wasn't moving.

Heart in her mouth, dreading what she might find, Lily approached the man. "Sir?"

 _Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead…_

The man turned, and Lily caught a glimpse of familiar hazel eyes.

"James?" she whispered. "What are you doing? You'll catch your death out here."

James shrugged, snow cascading off his shoulders. "So will you."

Lily frowned. "Pot- James. Come inside. Please." She hesitated, then added, "I'm worried about you."

James stared at the ground, not responding. Just when she thought he was going to ignore her completely, he nodded and stood up slowly. Mutely, he followed her into her home, which was only a few blocks away. She guided him inside.

Her house was small, and felt downright shack-like when compared to James' mansion. The taps didn't always work, she only had a spare few candles, but the windows had glass in them, and her fireplace was large and never without wood. It was home.

James looked around, something unreadable on his face. Lily refused to feel embarrassed. This was her home, and she was not ashamed of it. Everything she had, she had worked for- excluding a little bit set aside for her by her parents, and the occasional financial aid Petunia sent when she was feeling generous, which only happened a few times a year. Petunia had married a rich man, Vernon Dursley, who was just a few galleons short of being considered a lord.

"I like the pictures."

Lily started. James' voice was scratchy, and it broke in the middle of his sentence. However, Lily was warmed by his statement. Around her house, she had decorated the walls with the spare few pictures she had. Portraits of her family, of her nephew, even one of herself and Severus.

James, however, had gravitated towards the one with Dudley in it.

"Who's this?" he asked, smiling a little at the tiny baby in the picture. "He's cute."

Lily smiled. She had a soft spot for her nephew. "That's my sister's son. His name's Dudley Dursley. My sister, Petunia, and I don't get on well, but we both love Dudley. She and her husband, Vernon, live on the other side of Hogsmeade, though. I don't get to see them much."

James' shoulders drooped. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Lily shook her head. "Don't be. Want to tell me why you were trying to freeze to death?"

James shrugged. "I just... I'm worried about my parents," he admitted quietly. "They're not exactly young, you know? And it's my fault they're in there." James shuddered. His face looked guilt-ridden when he continued. "I haven't always been the perfect son. But I- I never even thought about what might happen to them if someone suspected that I had joined the Order. I was only concerned about proving myself, changing the world- I didn't even think about the consequences change might have on their world."

Lily crossed her arms and glared at the man in front of her. "James Potter! How were you to know what might have happened? Did you lock them in that cell? No. Did you bring the Death Eaters to your home? No. Did you arrest them? No! Don't tell me that it's your fault, because if your parents are anything like you, they don't blame you in the slightest."

"But it's my fault they're in there!"

"No! It's not. Besides, James, the only thing we can do now is save them. And to save them, we need to get rid of Riddle. There's no going back. Only forwards."

James sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. Tea?"

His lips quirked upwards. "Sure, Evans. Why not?"

After she had brought him a freshly brewed cup, she sat down next to him on her loveseat. She drummed the fingers of her left hand upon the arm. James leaned over and brought his hand down on her fidgeting one.

"That," he told her, "is very annoying."

Lily grinned, trying to ignore the fluttering of her heart. His hand was warm and calloused, and Lily's was tiny in comparison. James stared into her eyes a moment longer before releasing her hand.

Lily's heart pounded, she and James refusing to look at each other. She didn't know what had just happened, but she was not opposed to it. In fact, she welcomed it.

Why, oh why was James Potter able to awake these feelings inside of her?

"My parents would like you."

Lily glanced up, James' statement having caught her unawares. "Hmm?"

"My parents would like you." James repeated. He still wouldn't look at her. "I think you'd like them, too."

"I'm sure I would." Lily assured him softly.

James shuddered. Lily stood up and grabbed a blanket for him, before he could protest. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows. Lily frowned.

"The storm's getting worse," she said, breaking the silence. "You might have to stay here until it blows over. I'd hate for you to be out there."

James nodded. "Okay. If you're sure."

"Of course I am," Lily said briskly. "I'll bring you some pillows and a blanket. You don't mind taking the couch?"

James shook his head. "You've already done enough. I don't want to steal your bed, too."

Lily sighed. "You're still very upset," she observed. "I didn't make you feel any better."

James' eyes widened and he turned to her. "That's not true! I do feel better, you did help- I'm just... I'm still coming to terms with what happened, you know? I've never been alone before... they've always been there."

Hesitantly, Lily took his hand in hers. "You're not alone."

James' warm hazel eyes looked at their entwined hands in astonishment. Lily could feel her blood rushing through her veins. Her heart felt as though it was about to burst from her chest. Her empty hand trembled. She gasped.

"What's wrong?" James whispered.

Eyes wide, Lily shook her head. "I don't know. Nothing. Everything. One of the two."

James laughed, and suddenly, Lily's world snapped into clarity.

She lurched forwards, then stopped, her nose barely touching James'. Without thinking, she pressed her hand against the back of his neck, and kissed him.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of _James_. Something like wood polish, and grass, and sunshine. He smelled like summer. She was filled with his warmth.

Distantly, she felt his hand cupping her face, their other hands still clasped together. He was responding to her, and that feeling of being wanted, truly _wanted_ , washed over Lily so suddenly that she was overcome with emotion and a single tear trailed down her cheek.

After what was both an eternity and a single moment, James broke the kiss. They were both breathing heavily, and Lily wondered for a split second whether James had broken the kiss because he hadn't enjoyed it.

"Wow," James gasped. "That... wow." He cleared his throat. "I'd love to continue that, but, erm, I think something's burning."

"Burning?" The words took a moment to register in Lily's brain. When they finally did, she jumped up and ran into the kitchen, remembering the dinner she had put into the oven when she had been brewing tea for James and herself.

After they ate the (slightly burnt) chicken, James asked, "So, what does this mean for... us?"

Lily looked at him shyly through her hair. "Well... I'd really like this to mean, er..."

"Something more?" James asked excitedly.

Lily fought the heat rising to her face. "Yeah."

James shifted closer to her, spreading the blanket that had fallen to the floor over them both. "I think I might love you." he admitted softly.

Instead of panicking like she might have week, day, even two hours ago, Lily met his gaze evenly. "I think I might love you, too."

The brilliant grin that overtook James' features turned her legs to jelly. Then she cursed herself for feeling that lovesick. James started laughing from sheer elation, and Lily swatted his arm.

"Stop that," she scolded him.

"Stop what?" He looked confused.

Lily scowled. "Laughing. It's what made me kiss you in the first place."

James smirked mischievously. "Well, then, Lily my dear, I might have to laugh much more often."

Lily smiled, then yawned. "Mmm. Well, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight, James."

She stood up sleepily, but as she turned to go, James caught her wrist. She looked at him questionably, and he stood up, and pecked her nervously on the cheek. "Goodnight, Lily."

Lily's smile grew. Then she turned around to back into her room, leaving James to the couch. Never before had she loved a blizzard.

She supposed that in every storm, a little light found its way inside. And she had found hers.

* * *

The next morning, Lily awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. Groggily, she sat up, then put on her dressing gown. She shuffled her way into the kitchen, following her nose. There stood James, frying eggs and bacon at her stove. He grinned when he saw her.

"Morning, Sleepy Beauty." he greeted cheerfully. "The blizzard stopped last night, so I nipped into town and bought some stuff for breakfast. Hope you don't mind."

Lily breathed in deeply, taking in the savory aroma of the breakfast. "I don't mind. As long as I can have some of that bacon."

James chuckled. "I wouldn't dare withhold any from you."

Lily smirked. "You're a wise man, James Potter."

James grinned wickedly. "My mother taught me not to underestimate any woman. My father taught me that disrespecting them could be deadly."

Lily pulled out a chair and sat down. "Women are men's equals."

James met her gaze. "I know." He hesitated. "I wouldn't ever consider treating you like something fragile." Lily knew that he was thinking about Snape. "Just something to be valued."

Lily blinked, surprised. Then she smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

James nodded graciously. "Ready for that bacon?"

Lily laughed. "You know I am."

They ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence. Lily marveled at the fact that the man across from her could set her so at ease, when she hadn't even known him that long. She wasn't blind to his flaws, in fact, the first time they had met, that was all she could see. Now, however, she noticed his virtues, his triumphs. He was a very strong person, indeed. He was brave, and determined, and he always, in his heart, knew what was right. Lily wished she did. Although, perhaps they balanced each other out. James knew what was right, but was reckless and sometimes thoughtless. Lily didn't always know what was right straight away, but she thought things through and formulated plans to help her reach her goals.

"Your hair's not up today." James observed quietly.

Lily started. Her hand flew to her head, and she realised that she hadn't put her hair into the customary bun yet. "Oh," she stuttered, a little embarrassed. "It really should be pinned up-"

"No," James interrupted. "Don't. I like it like this. It's pretty."

Lily blushed, pleased. "You really think so?"

James cleared his throat. "Well, yeah. I mean, no matter how your hair looks, you're pretty to me, I was just saying that it was a nice change. Not that you need to change. I just- I'll stop talking now." He shoveled eggs into his mouth, looking mortified.

Lily beamed. "Thank you. That's very sweet."

James seemed to almost bask in her praise.

The two of them spent the rest of the morning together, and James left for home at around noon, with the promise that he would see her soon. Lily shut the door behind him, smiling.

Life was looking up.

* * *

Later that week, Fabian and Gideon came back from their mission with bad news.

"Riddle is expecting a shipment of a new weapon. Gunpowder." Gideon announced grimly.

Peter's head shot up. "Gunpowder? We can't match that kind of power!"

Sirius' face was pale. "No. We can't."

Mary's mouth was a straight, thin line. "Then we intercept the shipment."

"How?" demanded Caradoc. "There will be guards everywhere- something that important isn't just going to be laying around!"

"No," Albus agreed. "It wouldn't. But we don't have much of a choice. If Riddle gets this weapon, then he could wipe out the whole Order with a single match."

James cursed. Lily's heart was hammering in her chest. Something like this could be the difference between victory and defeat. And by Merlin, they had come too far to lose now.

Dorcas' brow furrowed. "Then we find out more about this shipment. How it's getting here, when, who's guarding it. Then we send some people in, posing as Death Eaters. Having and inside man might be helpful, but we don't have enough time to put someone in their ranks and have them gain enough trust."

"What do we do with the gunpowder?" wondered Sirius. "Once we have it, I mean."

It was Lily who spoke. "We destroy it. The gunpowder will most likely come from sea, right? Probably a secluded dock, to avoid suspicion- remember, mass panic could cause Riddle to lose power, and that's the last thing he wants. So, we blow up the ship. Let's see if that doesn't stop them."

Frank exhaled. "It's risky. Dangerous. Any number of people- from both sides- could die."

Alice closed her eyes, a hand on her swollen abdomen. "But what choice do we have? If we just ignore this, then Riddle will kill ten times that amount of people."

Remus slammed his palm against the table. "I hate this," he growled. "When did life become kill or be killed?"

"When Riddle gained power," Moody stated gravely. "Listen, Lupin, I don't like this any more than you do. In my opinion, men shouldn't play God. We shouldn't be able to choose who lives and who dies. But don't think of it like kill or be killed- that's the what Death Eaters are looking at it. Think of it like condemn or protect. We have to protect the people of this town. No one else is going to do it."

Marlene sighed. "Mad-Eye's right. We need to end this war sooner rather than later. I say we stop the shipment."

One by one, the rest of the table nodded their heads in agreement.

"That's settled then," Albus said softly. "We will discuss this further at the next meeting. Good night, all. Stay safe."

As they left, Lily gave James a small wave goodbye. He smiled in return, but Lily was still pondering one question.

When did the world get so dangerous?

* * *

Far away, in the Pettigrew residence, a blonde haired man twirled his snake-headed staff threateningly. "Time to decide, Pettigrew. Are you in... or out?"

A slightly pudgy young man with blonde hair and watery blue eyes gulped. Eyes darting around, they finally managed to look the other man in the eyes. Cold, grey eyes stared back.

"I..."

 **A/N: Ooh, what will he choose? Will Peter become a Death Eater? Only time will tell...**

 **Sorry if the Jily thing sucked. That was my first time writing romance. Hopefully it was passable. Stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hey, y'all! Ready for chapter 16? I know, I left you on a bit of a cliffhanger... *smirks evilly* Well, now you get to know what happens! Woohoo! Anyway, I hope you like this one. :) Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed! Especially those who complimented my conversion into AU. :D I try very hard to make it work, so I'm glad that you guys like how I've incorporated the Horcruxes and such. As for the traumatic experience bit- sorry if I got that wrong. I have no experience in that department. I mean no offense. You'll see what I mean. I hope this one is okay.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Seize the Day (Newsies)**

 **Chapter 16**

James Potter had had a very bipolar few days. He constantly went from being elated that he and Lily were courting, to seriously depressed about the Riddle situation.

Sirius was no help.

"I'm sorry- you said that Evans said _yes?"_ he asked incredulously for the millionth time.

James rolled his eyes. "She kissed me. I'm pretty sure that means yes."

Sirius cursed. "Great. I bet that she would hold out for at _least_ another month. Now I owe Remus two galleons."

James blinked. "You _bet_ on us?"

"Of course," he said. "Well, at first it was just me and Peter- I owe him money too, he bet Lily would kiss you first- but when Remus heard our bets, he said he might as well join in because we were 'so obviously wrong'. I guess he was right though. Merlin, I think he just made five galleons..."

James stared at his friend in disbelief for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "You, Sirius Black, are unbelievable."

Sirius grinned cockily. "I know."

They laughed. Then Sirius glanced at him nervously. "What... what is this going to change for you?"

James frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

Sirius fidgeted in the armchair he was sitting on in the Potters' sitting room. "I mean- well, this isn't just a fling to you, James. You two are in this for the long run. But now you have to decide- how much are you going to give to the Order?"

James didn't understand the problem. "Everything. Just like before."

Sirius shook his head. "No, James. You won't. You won't risk Lily's happiness, and you won't give your life as easily. Because, mate, you want a future _with her_. And if one of you were to die, that dream would be ripped away from you. How far are you willing to go? Will you go on the big mission- the gunpowder shipment interception?"

James paused. That had been the plan, but now that he thought of the very likely possibility that he would not come back from the mission... could he do that to Lily? With a wave of panic, he realized that Sirius had thought about the upcoming mission much more than he had. In James' mind, this was just a sneak in, dump the gunpowder in the ocean, get out. No guards, no weapons, no deaths.

With a chill, he realized what this mission really was. They would paint their faces and wear dark, light clothing. They would take out the guards around the gate surrounding the dock. Without stopping to save any friends who were caught, they would wait for the gunpowder to be loaded off of the ship, then cause a distraction and dump the barrels into the sea. Someone would go on board and mess with the engine so the ship would burn and sink. There was no way that everyone would get out alive. And that was if everything went right. On this mission, people he knew would die. He could die. Sirius, or Peter, or Remus could die. Or all of them.

Was he ready to give up a future with Lily? But was he prepared to stay behind and risk losing his closest friends in such a brutal fight?

"I... I don't know." he whispered. "To be honest, I haven't thought about this properly. You just made it ten times more real."

Sirius dipped his head in understanding. "Yeah. Just remember, James- this is not a game. This stopped being safe a long time ago."

"What do I do?" James burst out helplessly. "I don't want to be apart from Lily, but..."

Sirius sighed, looking ten years older. "I know. You feel like you have a duty to the Order. Honestly, there's no good answer. Either way you choose, you will regret it. Leave Lily? You risk breaking her heart. Stay with Lily? You risk losing your friends, and will always wonder if their deaths would have been prevented had you been there. Whatever you choose, no one will blame you."

James' shoulders slumped. "I wish my parents were here. If ever I needed their advice, it's now."

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "James... you do know that there's a chance that they might be..." He trailed off, but his meaning was clear.

James shivered. "Trust me," he croaked. "I know. They might be- dead. But I have to hope. I _have_ to."

They sat in an uneasy silence for a while. Then, James gently broke it.

"Sirius... are you going on the mission?"

Sirius bowed his head slightly, his long hair hiding his face, but James was sure that he saw his grey eyes shining determinedly. "Yes."

James swallowed before asking, "Why?"

Sirius turned to face him then, and there was a fire in his eyes that James knew could not be put out by any mere mortal, Riddle or not. "Because, James. While I can lose my friends, or my life, I have everything to gain."

"Like what?" whispered James.

Sirius' gaze grew wistful. "Happiness. A good name. Safety. The knowledge that, no matter what else happens in my life, I did this right."

James stared at his hands. He had a little more to lose than Sirius- the chance at being a husband or father, for example- but he also had less to gain- he was a typically happy person, and the Potters already had a good name. So what did he choose?

Shortly after that, Sirius departed, leaving James to his thoughts.

* * *

Later that same day, James and Peter were getting a drink together at The Three Broomsticks.

"Hey Peter?"

"Yeah, James?"

"Are you going on the mission?"

Peter looks at James warily. "Why do you ask?"

James sighed, staring at the foam of his butterbeer. "I'm trying to decide if I should go or not."

"Oh." Peter smiled softly at him. "I'm not really sure yet, actually. I'm not... I'm not the best fighter, I don't want to be a liability. But at the same time... at the same time, I can't _not_ go, you know? So... yeah, I'm going."

James wished that he could decide so easily. "Are you afraid of dying?"

Peter frowned, thinking deeply. "I… I don't think so," he said finally. "I think I'm afraid of... being forgotten. Left behind. Of not being wanted."

James took a sip of his butterbeer, turning Peter's answer over in his mind. It made sense, he thought. Not of death itself, but of what it entailed.

"I think I'm afraid of leaving people behind," James admitted. "I don't want to hurt people."

Peter seemed to ponder this. "I'm afraid of being hurt, and you're afraid of doing the hurting. Strange, isn't it? How those two things are so different, but equally terrifying. But what... if you had to choose between those two, what would you choose? It seems to me lately, that there is no easy answer anymore. There's the safe answer, and there's the blurry answer- the one you don't know where it leads to."

Talking to Peter, James had learned, was like listening to him talk to himself. But usually, Peter presented very good arguments, and they normally helped James arrive to a decision. But not today.

"I just wish that there was a way to know which choices are the right ones." grumbled James.

"Yes... Although, I suppose, if we knew that, then Riddle wouldn't be in power. There would be no wrong." Peter pondered aloud. "I think you're thinking of the afterlife, James."

James laughed softly. "I suppose you're right, Peter. Wish things were easier."

Peter shrugged. "Don't we all."

James turned his glass around in his hands. "It's just... I jumped at the chance to join the Order. It was the answer to all my prayers- a way to fight Riddle! I was fully prepared to give the Order everything- money, connections, resources, my life- but now that I'm bringing Lily closer to me, I don't know how much I'm willing to lose."

Peter reached out, grabbed his hand, and squeezed it comfortingly. "Situations change, James." he reminded him gently. " _People_ change."

James nodded miserably. "I want a life with her. A family. It's soon, I know, it's crazy- but isn't love supposed to be crazy? We haven't known each other that long, I don't even know when we went from acquaintances to friends to something more- but I can already imagine a future with her. I don't want to risk that."

Peter finished his drink. "Tell her that, James. Talk to her about this."

"But I know what she'll say," James argued. "She'll tell me that it's my decision and that she supports me no matter what."

Peter cocked his head to the side. "Then it sounds like you already know what you're going to decide."

James frowned, confused. "I do?"

"Think about it." Peter advised. "Maybe sleep on it. That always helps me."

James sighed. "Yeah. Maybe."

Seeing that he was still unconvinced, Peter leaned closer. "Only you know what's right for you, James. No one else can make this decision for you. Sometimes... there are no good options. And sometimes, you're doomed to live with the consequences."

James exhaled slowly. "Peter, I bet you've never made a bad decision in your life. You're too good a person. I'm not... I'm not like you."

Something unnameable flickered in Peter's blue eyes. "I've made bad decisions, James." he said softly. "Merlin, I've made terrible decisions."

James knew that something was haunting his friend, but decided not to pry. Peter was entitled to his secrets, and honestly, with so much on his mind, James wouldn't have been able to listen properly.

Knowing it wasn't enough, James gripped Peter's arm and said, "We won't let you down, mate. You mean too much to us. Besides, you're worth more than your mistakes."

Peter nodded, a deep sorrow still present in his eyes. But then he glanced at James. "Aren't... aren't some mistakes too big to be forgiven?"

James smiled tiredly. "I'm pretty sure anything too big to be forgiven wasn't an accident."

Peter paled. "Have you ever- ever done anything too terrible to be forgiven?"

"Yes," James admitted, thinking of the way he had tormented Severus Snape in school. "I used to be pretty mean to Snape. He'll probably never forgive me for that. But I know better now. I'm a better person."

Peter hummed in response, seemingly deep in thought.

James clapped his friend on the back. "I've got to go, Peter. But just know- you're one of my closest friends. Thanks for your help." He paused. "And Peter? We will win this."

Peter stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Yeah. The light always wins, eh?"

James grinned, hazel eyes shining. "Always."

* * *

Remus yawned as he answered the door. "James? What are you doing here? It's," He glanced at the clock behind him. "two in the morning."

James winced. He had been unable to sleep, thinking about Peter and Sirius' advice, until he finally decided to ask for Remus'. However, he had forgotten the small detail that, well, it was two in the morning, and most people were _sleeping_.

"Sorry, Remus. I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll come back later-"

"No, don't, it's fine. You obviously had a reason to come here." Remus soothed, sounding more awake than before. "How did you know where I lived, anyway?"

James smiled a bit sheepishly. "Alice gave me directions in case of an emergency. And Frank mentioned that you two were living together."

Remus nodded. "Sounds like Alice."

James laughed. "Yeah."

Remus stepped out onto the porch, and shut the door quietly behind him. "So, James, why the unexpected visit?"

James rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I really _am_ sorry for waking you up."

Remus waved his concern aside. "Don't be. I'm kind of glad you did."

James waited for an explanation, but when one wasn't forthcoming, he pressed, "Why?"

Remus shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "Nightmare."

James could only imagine what of. "Oh. Do those- do those happen often?"

Remus was silent for so long, James wondered if he was ignoring the question. But then he said, "My life was hell for four years. The human mind- the human mind needs to know... everything, I guess. Gah, I know that didn't make sense. Here listen- if you go through a traumatic experience, you want to push it away, right? But when you let your guard down, flashes, echoes come back. Because your mind wants to know _why-_ why you were so scared, why this happened, what, exactly, hurt you the most. You want to understand _yourself_. And the answer is in those memories, no matter how horrible they are. I can keep the memories under control during the day, but at night... well."

Eyes wide, James nodded. This was the most Remus had ever spoken of his time in the mines- even if, when you thought about it, he hadn't said very much about the mines at all. "So... you think dreams are trying to tell you something?"

Remus shook his head. "No. I believe dreams tell you things you've forgotten, or would rather not remember. Why else would you have a recurring dream? The mines changed me, and my nightmares are trying to tell me what changed. What I don't remember, or what I want to stay forgotten."

James frowned. "But then... don't you _want_ to know what changed?"

Remus shook his head. "No. I'm afraid of change." For the first time since he began talking about his nightmares, Remus looked James in the eye. "I've spent years, James, learning about myself- my strengths, weaknesses, fears, and dreams. If I know them, then they can't be used against me. What I fear most- one of the things, anyway- is the loss of control. I don't want to believe that anything about me has changed, because what if then I can't control my actions, or my thoughts? What if those wild thoughts or actions lead to a mistake on a mission? A slip of the tongue where silence is crucial? No. I don't want to face the fact that I don't know myself anymore. But I'm too smart to believe that I don't have to face myself at some point. At the same time, though, I'm too scared to do that now. Have my fears changed? Maybe. Most likely. Have my weaknesses changed? Definitely. Have my strengths and dreams changed? I really don't know. But I'm loathe to find out. What if I'm just weaker? What if I'm not stronger than before, what if the mines broke something that I can't fix? I can't risk looking, because I'm scared of what I'll find."

Remus took a shuddering breath, the scars on his face illuminated by the moonlight. James realized that he had no idea if those scars were a reminder of the mines or not. But he did know that Remus' fears were very real, and his seemed childish in comparison. "Remus, you're not broken. You're a smart, brave bloke. You're one of the strongest people I know. Not many people could endure what you did and then come back from it- much less throw themselves into the war."

Remus shrugged. "Maybe you're right."

"I _am_ right," James said confidently. "And hey- whoever said you had to face this alone? We're right here, Remus. Standing at your side, always."

Remus smiled a genuine smile, and James was relieved. "Thanks, James. Dunno what I'd do without you guys." Then Remus laughed softly. "Sorry, you came here to talk to me about something, and I just started ranting about my problems! What do you need, mate?"

Knowing that Remus wanted the topic off of him, James allowed the change in subject. "The upcoming mission..." he began slowly. "Are you going?"

Remus blinked in surprise before nodding. "Yes. Why?"

James gulped. "I... I don't know whether to go, or stay with Lily. I don't want to hurt her if I die, but I don't want to leave the danger to you guys."

Remus nodded. "I heard about you and Lily. Congratulations."

James smiled weakly. "Thanks."

"To answer your question," Remus continued. "I don't really know what to tell you. I'm not risking what you are, James. But I," Remus faltered, glanced at the door behind him, then set his jaw in determination. "I'm fighting for Frank's kid. That kid in there, that's my little niece or nephew. I will make this world a safe one if it kills me. Whatever you choose James, you're protecting someone- whether that's me, Sirius, and Peter, or your future child is up to you."

James let out a puff of air, watching it condense in front of him. "I wish it were easier than that."

Remus laughed. "Nothing in this world is free, James. Your successes and failures? Those depend on how much you're willing to spend."

James grinned. "You're pretty wise, Remus. Like an old man."

"Oi!" Remus protested. The two burst into obnoxious laughter. When they had calmed down, Remus said, "I think you really want to talk to Frank. He better than anyone knows what you're going through. I'll go get him."

* * *

James followed Remus inside, and waited in the entry hall while Remus woke Frank. James felt bad for waking him up, but he figured Frank wouldn't mind. He took the opportunity to look around, frowning slightly at what he saw. It hadn't really registered before now, but the house was run-down and tiny. There was a small fireplace in the sitting room, which James suddenly realized he was standing in. There were a couple simple benches against the wall, and some threadbare cushions on top of them. James looked to his right and saw a table and a furnace. It dawned on him that he was looking at the kitchen.

In front of him was a short hallway, two doors on either side. James guessed that one of them was a bathroom, and the others were bedrooms. James felt slightly sick. There were five people living in this house- soon to be six. And in his home, a mansion- it was just him. He wondered what his family had done to get that house. The Longbottoms deserved it more than he did, of that he was certain.

"You wanted to see me, James?"

James snapped out of his reverie, his eyes meeting Frank's. The man's dark hair was ruffled, his green eyes clouded with sleep. James nodded, glad to see the other man.

"Yeah, I did. Is that alright?"

Frank smiled kindly. "Of course."

The two sat on the bench (now James could make out an armchair tucked into a dark corner, but that was probably for Alice). Frank looked at James expectantly, and James took a deep breath, then blurted out, "Are you going on the next mission?"

Frank looked a bit startled, but then shook his head. "No."

James cocked his head to the side. "Why not?"

Frank looked at him curiously, but answered. "I want to be there for my child." he said simply. "I want to be there every step of the way."

James could understand that. He felt that he would feel the same way. "Lily and I got together." he mumbled.

"Ah," Frank said, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "And now you don't whether or not to stay with someone who holds your whole future. Whose future you _share_."

"Yes!" exclaimed James. "Exactly! Everyone says pretty much the same thing- that only I can decide, and that no one will blame me, whatever I choose. But I _can't_ choose."

"James, I get it." Frank murmured. "I've been where you are. I chose my family over the Order- and I'll do that every time. They are the most important thing in my life"

James wilted. "But I don't have a family. Not yet." He frowned. "If your family comes first, then why did you join the Order? People are targeted just for being a member."

Frank scratched the inside of his wrist. "I'm trying to make a safer world for my family. So yeah- I joined the Order. But on those missions, there's only a _possibility_ of death- this upcoming mission, people _will_ die. And I won't rush to my death when my child is on the way."

James bit his lip. "So, basically, there's a line, and this mission is crossing it?"

Frank smiled a bit ruefully. "Precisely."

James put his head in his hands and groaned. After a moment, he felt Frank wrap a blanket around his shoulders. "Thanks." he muttered.

Frank put a gentle hand on his back. "Everything will work out, James. You have to have hope. Otherwise, Riddle's already won."

"You're right." sighed James. Then, in a small voice, he whispered, "I just wish that it didn't affect me and Lily. That _we_ could be safe, guaranteed."

Frank chuckled. "Don't we all? You have no idea how many nights I've spent, praying and _hoping_ that Alice will make it out of this alive with our child. Some nights, I ask for me and Mum to be spared. On particularly selfish nights, I ask for Remus to be spared."

James' brow creased. "Why would that be selfish?"

Frank snorted. "You kidding? I'd like to meet the person who can tell Remus Lupin what to do. Nah," he sighed. "Remus feels like this war is... personal, almost. Or like he can protect the rest of us by fighting. I just... I wish he knew that he doesn't have to do this alone. That it's not _his_ war, you know? It's all of ours."

James thought back on his conversation with Remus. Was it possible that Remus had told him something he hadn't even told Frank, his oldest friend? "I think he's beginning to realize that."

"Good."

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then, timidly, he asked, "How do I decide?"

Frank pursed his lips. "Talk to Lily," he suggested. "Tell her that you want this- what you have with her- to be permanent. Tell her that you feel like you can't leave your friends to face the threat alone. That promise of something more... that might be enough to bring you home."

James stared at him. In a hushed voice, he asked, "Do you really think so?"

 _Please,_ James prayed. _Please let that be enough_.

Frank met his gaze steadily. "I do."

That was enough for James.

"Frank? Frank! Where are you?" a voice suddenly shouted, startling Frank and James- and by the muffled cursing, waking Remus, too.

"Alice, love, I'm coming. Just going to the loo." Frank called. He turned to James. "Are you all right?"

James nodded, standing up. "I'll be fine, thanks, Frank. I'll get out of your hair now."

James quickly folded the blanket, handing it back to Frank. "Sorry for waking you up."

Frank smiled his easy smile. "No worries. I'm always willing to help a friend." Frank paused, then added quietly, "Thanks for being there for Remus. He needs as many friends as he can get right now."

James nodded. "It's no chore, being Remus' mate. I'm just glad he has _you_."

* * *

The next Order meeting, they went over the plan.

"All right," Moody cleared his throat. "Listen up, you lot. This is a volunteer mission _only_. Now. As you all know, Hogsmeade is on the east coast of the continent- which means, there are four possible docks that the gunpowder shipment could use. Thankfully, Fletcher here," Moody nodded to the newest member of the Order, Mundungus Fletcher. "told us that Riddle will be using the dock nearest his mansion. That's the one with the hundreds of guards, the barbed wire fence, and the lookout towers."

"Merlin!" grumbled Sirius. "What _else_ have they been importing?"

Moody cast him an irritated glance. "We'll find that out later, Black. But this dock- there are four founders of Hogsmeade, and Salazar Slytherin built this one." Moody leaned forward, his palms flat on the table before him. "And Slytherin placed a monster within that dock. In the sewers. So going under the fence and guards- impossible."

Fabian frowned. "Why? I mean, a _monster,_ Mad-Eye?"

"Aye, a monster." Mundungus interrupted. "A great, big serpent they call a basilisk. Deadly poison. Worst part? It knows its friends from its foes, and _only answers to Riddle_."

Fabian turned green. Gideon was pale. James was pretty sure Sirius had just muttered a very nasty word. Remus, however, looked thoughtful.

"If we could blind the thing-" he began.

Moody cut him off. "It would sniff us out."

Remus shook his head. "No- think about it. Hundreds of guards- we be surrounded in an instant. A barbed-wire fence- how do we get around that, I heard it was twenty feet high! But this basilisk- it can only approach us from one direction, if it's in the sewers. If we blind it, and create a distraction, then the rest of us can focus on getting the gunpowder."

Slowly, Moody nodded. "Good thinking, Lupin. It's a plan."

Marlene whistled, slow and low. It was the first complement Moody had ever given.

Ignoring her, Moody continued. "Right. Once we're through the sewers, a small team will _let the Death Eaters remove the gunpowder from the ship_. They know where it is, they will get it. Then, you will all move in, quietly take out the Death Eaters, take their uniforms, and _get out of there_. If things go south, dump the goods into the ocean and run. As the others get the gunpowder, a couple of you will sneak onto the ship and sabotage the engine. In and out. Understood?"

Dorcas exhaled slowly. "That's not much of a plan."

Albus looked grim. "Unfortunately, Miss Meadowes, it's the best we have."

"Now," Aberforth barked. "Who's going?"

For a moment, no one moved. James' heart was in his throat. Then Sirius stood up.

"I will." he declared somberly.

Remus stood also, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So will I."

Fabian and Gideon stood together. Their faces were white, but a fire burned in their eyes. "So will we."

Dorcas, head held high, also got to her feet. "Wouldn't dream of missing it."

Slowly, but steadily, James' fellow Order members followed. Peter, Caradoc, Marlene, Mundungus, Moody (of course), Daedelus Diggle, Sturgis Podmore, and Edgar Bones (who was a new member).

Frank remained firmly in his seat, and James' knees were shaking. This was the final moment. His last chance. He felt someone squeeze his hand, and he looked over to see Lily's steady gaze, her green eyes lazing.

" _Whatever you have to do,"_ she whispered to him. " _I'll wait for you."_

And James stood.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back. :D IMPORTANT: This chapter is perspective-crazy. You have been warned. There are a lot of people going on this mission, so there are a lot of thoughts and insecurities I have to address. Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed the last chapter- you guys are the best. Sorry if I can't respond to every review- just know that you all make my day, and inspire me to write more!**

 **Posting this in honor of James Potter's birthday. He'd be 58 if he were still here.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **One Day More (Les Miserables)**

 **Chapter 17**

Remus Lupin shivered as another icy gust of wind tried to peel the skin from his bones. His thin cloak didn't really do much in the way of warmth, but Remus had more pressing things than the cold on his mind. He was worrying over the upcoming mission. Yes, he was prepared to give up his life, and would do so gladly, but he was also painfully aware of what surviving would mean.

The survivors of this mission would be injured. Some faces would be seen, and they would have no way of knowing who had been and who hadn't. Everyone on this mission had to be prepared to go into hiding, and who they were seen with, lest they give the impression that those people were in the Order, too. But if _Remus_ were caught- he'd either be executed, or sent back to the mines, permanently this time.

He'd rather be executed.

But he would go. He would go, because he knew that whatever the consequences of this mission, it was worth it to prevent what had happened to him from happening to anyone else.

Remus pushed back his hair from his face, fingers tugging through the light brown and the grey strands around his ears. They hadn't been there before.

Ever since he had been released from the mines, the dream that had kept him going was steadily deteriorating. He did not have a good job. He did not have a big house. He did not have a pretty wife whose belly was swollen with his unborn child. But Frank had those things- and what he didn't have yet, he could have soon. So Remus fought. He would die for his friend, and he would die for the Longbottom family. At least now, his sacrifice would mean something.

Remus Lupin looked up at the sky, taking in the millions of stars. He admired them for a while, lost in their beauty. It might be the last glimpse of beauty he'd ever see.

* * *

James Potter held Lily Evans close. His face was buried in her red hair, and her face was burrowed in his shoulder.

"I don't want you to go," Her voice was muffled, but he could still hear the tears in it. "I'm too afraid you won't come back."

James pecked the top of her head. "I'll come back." They both knew that his words were an empty promise. James couldn't control what happened out there.

They were curled up together in Potter Manor, the fire blazing a few feet to their right. They sat in silence for a while, just drinking in the comforting presence of each other. Then Lily broke through the trance they had been in, tilting her head up to look at him.

"I have something for you," she said softly.

James looked down at her. Her beautiful green eyes were bright, and her right cheek was pink from being pressed up against his chest. He'd never noticed before, but she had a light smattering of freckles under her left eye and across her nose. Sometimes, he was almost certain that she was an angel. "What?"

Lily reached into the pocket of her blouse and pulled out a small gold pendant on what looked like an old boot lace. She placed it around his neck, and he held up the pendant so he could examine it. It was shaped like a shield, and inside, a tiny lion stood proudly.

James looked at Lily questioningly, and, biting her lip, she answered.

"It was my dad's. He came across it in the market once, and, recognizing that it wasn't just some worthless trinket, bought it. No matter how hard things got, he never sold it. You see, this pendant belonged to Godric Gryffindor. Dad was a historian at heart, and knew at once its worth. You know what they said about Gryffindor, don't you?"

Slowly, James shook his head. He had heard tales of Gryffindor of course, but he didn't know what Lily was alluding to.

Lily pushed his glasses back up his nose. "They say that Gryffindor was 'brave at heart. His daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindor apart.' It... reminded me of you."

Lily turned so she was facing him. "I know that you don't know if you'll come back. I know that part of you thinks that you won't. I know that you want to return home. But I also know that you have to go, because that's who you are. You're brave, and loyal, and too daring for your own good. And I understand, and I'll wait. _Because I love you_."

Eyes wide, unable to find the words he so desperately wanted to say, James nodded. Luckily, it seemed to be enough for Lily. He gently put the pendant under his shirt, letting it rest against his heart. He would draw strength from it on the battlefield. He would draw strength from her.

Lily wrapped her arms around his neck. "I don't want to live without you. It feels like- like once we started this, everything- everything _changed_. Like the world changed. It's brighter. And- argh! I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"No, no!" James said hurriedly. "No, I understand. It's like the world's brighter, like you said. Like now... there's a reason to hold onto hope. Like there's a chance to have something better. Like now, winning this war doesn't seem so impossible. In fact, it seems _likely_. And that is both exhilarating and terrifying."

Lily stared at him. "Yes," she breathed. "That's... exactly it. Only I know that you might not come back, and I'm afraid of the world going dark again."

Her whispered confession echoed the thoughts tangled around his heart. He kissed her forehead, cupping her face with his hands. "If I don't come back, Lily, then don't let the world darken. Just remember that it _can_ be lightened... and fight for that. And if," he swallowed with difficulty. The words were choking him, and every fiber of his being was begging him to be selfish, and leave the words unsaid. But he couldn't be selfish, not when it came to Lily. "And if you find love after I'm gone, love him completely. Don't feel guilty. Don't think of me. All I want is for you to be happy."

Lily's lower lip wobbled, her tears caught in her eyelashes like tiny diamonds caught in a net. "I can't love anyone like I love you. I already know that."

He couldn't help the relieved smiled that lit up his face. "I can't love anyone else either. But know that, whatever happens to me, I'll always love you. I'll wait for you, however long it takes."

A single tear made its way down Lily's cheek. "You make it sound like I'm the one going away."

Oh, James knew that he was the one leaving. He just didn't want to leave her twice.

He kissed her in response, and no more words were necessary. For tonight at least, they would be together separate from the world, protected by their love.

And James knew. He knew that their love, if need be, would stretch from this world to the next.

* * *

Severus Snape hated the docks. This particular port was loud, and the security was tight. How many times did he have to show them his Dark Mark before they understood that _yes,_ he was a Death Eater, and _yes,_ he was supposed to be here.

Pettigrew had better be right about the details of the Order's attack. If he wasn't, then, well, the Dark Lord wouldn't be happy...

As always, Snape's thoughts drifted to Lily. Lily Evans. An angel among mortals, a rose in a garden of thorns- he had been a fool to think that he stood a chance with her. But once his rank in the Dark Lord's army grew, she'd understand. She'd know that everything he did, he did for her. That he loved her.

Maybe Snape didn't understand the power love had over him, over her, but he was certain that what he felt about her was pure, clean, unadulterated. Perhaps the only pure thing about him.

He didn't love her her because she was beautiful. He loved her light, her ability to love, her kindness, and her company. He loved that she loved spending time with him, someone who people scorned, looked down upon. In his eyes, Lily Evans was flawless. And that may be why James Potter was destined to be hers. Potter loved her for her faults, and her strengths. Severus Snape could find no fault within her.

Not that Snape realized this.

No, to him, Lily Evans was unattainable, like heaven itself. She was on such a high pedestal, if he were to find some crack within her, she would crumble, and that would crush him.

But now, Snape was a Death Eater, walking over roads that were hiding a monster. He was helping someone ruin the lives of others, because dammit, he was going to prove that he was worthy of something, even if he was destroyed in the process.

Although, something buried deep within Snape told him that there wasn't much left to destroy.

* * *

Sirius Black gazed at the waking horizon. The rising sun painted the sky a myriad of colors- pinks, purples, blues, oranges, and reds that Sirius hadn't seen in a long time. It was a promise. A promise of a new age. He was determined to make it their age. An age of safety and prosperity. An age where little brothers weren't led astray and killed in carriage accidents, where starving men didn't become slaves when they tried to feed their families, where men weren't cut to pieces for trying to make the world a better place.

He had lost Regulus, he had lost Benjy. How many men would die tomorrow?

The truth of it was that Sirius couldn't stomach death. He could handle the news fine, of course. He could grieve, be angry, and weep. But he knew that hearing of someone's death was very different from seeing it.

He hadn't seen his parents' bodies, or Regulus', at the funeral. It was closed-casket, for obvious reasons. He hadn't seen what remained of Benjy's body- as far as he knew, only Albus, Aberforth, and Moody had. The thought of actually _seeing_ a dead body, of watching the light leave someone's eyes, left Sirius quaking in his boots.

But he would go. He would protect, and avenge, and as terrified as he was of watching someone die, death itself did not scare him. Maybe there wasn't a Heaven, maybe there wasn't a Hell. Maybe there was just a vast void of emptiness. Maybe he'd just end up being born again. Whatever the case, Sirius could face it. Wherever the next life led him, his brother would be there, and his friends would eventually follow.

He was also ready. A strange sort of calmness had encased him, chasing away any doubt he might have had about going. He would fight with his brothers at his side, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He, James, Peter, and Remus- together, they would stand tall.

Sirius' lips twisted up into a smirk. "Bring it on, Riddle," he whispered to the new morning. "We can take it. And you will lose. One way or another."

* * *

James was riding in a carriage on his way into town when he saw Remus passing by. He caught the other man's eye and inclined his head slightly.

 _Are you ready?_ his eyes asked.

A small smile played at the corner of Remus' mouth.

 _Am I ever,_ his eyes replied. _Tomorrow everything changes_.

 _Tomorrow,_ James agreed.

* * *

Fabian and Gideon Prewett were ready to raise hell. When they told Molly as much, she swatted their arms and scolded them for using such language. But then she told them that they'd better be careful.

Gideon reached over and tucked a strand of her beautiful red hair behind her ear. "We can't promise we'll come back, Molls," he murmured. "But know that we love you."

Fabian nodded, squeezing his sister's shoulder. "You have a good life here. We want that for our nephews."

Molly's eyes were bright as she said, "Your nephews want their uncles."

Fabian's eyes drifted towards her abdomen, where they had recently learned that the newest addition to the Weasley family was growing. "And we want to be there, Molls. But we also want him to be safe."

"Or her," Molly corrected automatically through her tears.

"Yeah," Gideon whispered. "Or her. Merlin, in a house full of boys, that little girl would either be treated like a princess, or become tougher than the whole lot of her brothers put together."

Fabian and Molly laughed. Then Arthur came in, and seemed to read something on their faces. He visibly deflated.

"This is it, isn't it?" he asked softly. "This is either the end... or the beginning."

"We're hoping it's the latter," quipped Gideon. But everyone could hear the underlying seriousness.

Arthur nodded slowly, his glasses perched crookedly on his nose, red hair already beginning to thin out. A sudden appreciation of the man before him suddenly washed over Fabian. Here was a man who was very passionate about finding out how things worked, who was constantly put down by his neighbors and colleagues, and who had a difficult time making ends meet. But he was kind, and compassionate, and he loved his family. He taught his children to stand up for what they believed in, and to never let other people's words get in the way of their dreams. That was what Fabian thought was most important for his nephews to learn, and he had never before given much thought to how much Arthur was doing for them. Most importantly, Arthur treated Molly well- he always had, and something told him that he always would. Fabian walked around the kitchen table and drew his brother-in-law into a hug.

"Thank you, for everything," Fabian murmured into Arthur's ear.

Arthur squeezed back just as tightly. "I love her. And I love my boys. And I love the two of you. I know why you're going... just come _back_."

Fabian tightened his hold on Arthur. "I'll do my best. Just... if I don't... do one thing for me."

"Anything," Arthur promised.

Fabian blinked, hard, and said, "Don't let those boys forget me."

Fabian felt Arthur's watery chuckle. "I don't think they _can_ forget. But any future children we might have... I'll make sure they know what their uncles did for them."

Fabian pulled away. "Thank you."

Gideon took his turn saying goodbye to Arthur, and then the Weasley family had one last dinner with the Prewett brothers.

Little Bill, only nine years old, seemed to know that something was wrong. "Uncle Gideon?"

Gideon shoveled some chicken into his mouth. "Yeah, mate?"

Bill looked troubled. "Are you and Uncle Fabian going away?"

Gideon paused, a spoonful of peas already halfway to his mouth. He sighed, setting his spoon down. "Yeah, mate. We are."

Bill frowned. "When are you coming back?"

Gideon rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno, kid. Where we're going... it's dangerous. We're fighting the bad guys, you know?"

Slowly, Bill nodded. "You're fighting Riddle? With the Order of the Phoenix? Tell everyone else I hope they stay safe."

Fabian and Arthur choked, Molly glared at her eldest son, and Gideon burst out laughing.

"Looks like someone learned to listen at doors!" crowed Gideon. "That's a good lad!"

" _Gideon!"_ screeched Molly. She turned to her eldest son. "And _you,_ Bill Weasley! Listening at doors! Your father and I have taught you better."

Bill looked a bit sheepish, but pleased by his uncle's praise. "Sorry, Mum."

Molly sighed. "Yes, Bill, dear. You're uncles are fighting for the Order."

Obviously, Molly knew her sons well enough to know that a denial would be useless at this point.

Bill was a smart kid, and Fabian knew that even though he couldn't quite grasp exactly was at stake, he knew that things were looking dire. Fabian loved that kid. He was starting to grow his hair long- right now it was curling slightly around his chin, much to Molly's chagrin.

"I'll miss you," Bill said sincerely.

Gideon looked lovingly at his nephew. "And we'll miss you. I'll think of you every moment, okay?"

Bill nodded eagerly. "Okay. And I'll think of you guys too."

Molly clapped a hand over her mouth and hurriedly excused herself, trying to spare her children the sight of seeing their mother cry. Gideon ran off after her, patting Bill's shoulder appreciatively on his way out. That left Arthur and Fabian with the kids.

Charlie frowned. "Is Mummy okay?"

Arthur smiled sadly. "Yes, son. She's just going to miss your uncles."

Charlie, the second oldest, nodded. He was seven years old, and had a fascination with creatures that Gideon shared. "Okay. Then me and Uncle Gideon can play dragon, right? When they come back?"

"Of course we will! I'll be looking forward to it." exclaimed Gideon, leading a red-eyed Molly back into the kitchen.

Charlie, looking pleased, went back to his dinner.

Percy, the middle child, pouted. He was only four, but Fabian could already tell he'd be quite the scholar when he got older. "Me and Uncle Fabian can read a book now, right Mummy? He _promised_."

Fabian chuckled. "Sure, mate. Go get _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. How about _The Fountain of Fair Fortune?"_

"Okay!" Percy leapt out of his chair and ran to get his precious book.

That's how Fabian found himself reading from _Beedle the Bard_ in an armchair, Percy and the two-year-old twins Fred and George squeezed into his lap. Gideon and Charlie were acting out the scenes as he read them aloud, exciting the twins, and Molly and Arthur were standing in the doorway, watching them fondly, one of Arthur's hands resting on Molly's abdomen, where their baby rested.

And suddenly, Fabian knew. He'd fight for these moments. This was a memory he'd treasure for the rest of his life, and he prayed that one day, any other children of Molly and Arthur's would be there with them. He'd fight for this, to the end. And while death seemed both suffocatingly close and distant at the same time, Fabian knew with absolute certainty that no matter how short his life might be, it was worth living if such a wonderful family loved him.

Those Death Eaters wouldn't know what hit them.

* * *

Remus Lupin stared out his bedroom window. The end was almost upon them. He recalled a night in a bar with three brave men and smiled. Tomorrow. It would all mean something tomorrow.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange cackled wickedly. She tapped her glass of champagne against her husband's, an intimidating man with dark hair and eyes called Rodolphus.

Her brother-in-law, Rababstan, grinned, showing off his blindingly white teeth. He looked almost exactly like his brother, but lacked Rodolphus' goatee and elegant curls. "We've got them now! The damn Order won't know what hit them."

Bellatrix laughed maniacally. "Too right! We'll squash them once and for all. No one will ever stand against our Lord again."

Rodolphus chuckled. "That fool Dumbledore. Thinking that he could put together a force to stop us- a force made of _commoners_ , no less, mere paupers!"

"He is a fool," Bellatrix agreed. "He won't be making that mistake again. I wonder, how many of his precious students will die tomorrow?"

Rabastan shrugged. The three of them were lounging comfortably in the sitting room of Lestrange Manor, celebrating the next day's sure victory. "Who knows? I hope all of them. Actually murdering them is so... _messy_."

Rodolphus smiled cruelly. "What's wrong, brother? Afraid to get your hands dirty?"

"With tainted blood, yes." Rabastan replied easily.

Rodolphus turned to his wife. "And you, my dear? Has the Dark Lord tasked you with disposing of anyone in that special way of yours?"

Bellatrix's smiled would have even the bravest of men running for the hills. "That, my dear, depends on who survives the blast."

Rodolphus took a sip of his wine. "I do hope you get something to play with, dear. It would be a shame if you didn't. You know, Pettigrew may be a spineless coward, but he does have his uses."

Bellatrix's heavily lidded eyes narrowed in mirth. "Oh, he most certainly _does_."

* * *

Frank Longbottom knocked on the door of Remus' room.

"Come in," a soft voice responded.

Frank entered the room, shivering slightly at the draft. Remus was sitting on the small window seat, staring at the setting sun. Frank stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"How are you faring?"

Remus snorted. "What do you think, Frank? I'm not exactly jumping for joy. But... this is something I have to do. And you know what? If I die tomorrow... at least I'll have done something, you know? My life will have meant something."

"Even if you don't go, it will mean something." Frank knew it was a desperate, last-ditch effort, but he had to say it.

Remus turned to look at him, dark amber eyes soft with understanding. "I wouldn't be able to face myself if I stayed."

Frank sighed. "I know. Doesn't make me hate it any less, though."

Remus grinned. "I should hope not. I don't want you to celebrate my death, do I?"

Frank winced, and Remus seemed to realize that his joke had been in bad taste. He sighed. "Frank, you and your family... I would do anything to protect you."

"You already did that!" Frank suddenly yelled. He couldn't help it; all the pent-up frustration, anger, and sorrow was suddenly exploding out of him, and Merlin, it felt _good_. "You did that, and it earned you four years in hell! And the second you're out, what do you do? You throw yourself right back into danger! You're so ready to sacrifice yourself, that you don't look to see that there are some people who wouldn't be able to stand it if-" Frank's throat closed up. Croakily, he managed to finish. "I- I couldn't stand it if you disappeared forever this time."

Remus was wide-eyed, and for a moment, they were in familiar territory. Remus was seventeen again, easy for Frank to read, open and passionate, not this closed-off, haunted Remus that he hadn't been able to connect to.

"Frank..." breathed Remus. "I didn't know you felt that way. Listen, I- argh!" Remus buried his head in his hands, tugging at his hair with his long fingers. "I'm jealous of what you have," he blurted suddenly.

Frank was taken aback. "W-what?"

Remus sat up, but avoided Frank's gaze. "You heard me." He looked miserable. "I- I want to get married and have a family, and it's bloody _hard_ to see you with all that, and know that I'm too broken to have that for myself."

Frank was breathing shallowly. "What do you mean, broken?"

Remus wrapped his arms around himself. "Those mines... Frank, they _destroyed_ me. They took pieces of me and obliterated them. I don't know what's left, but I do know that I'm not the same man I was before, and that I can't get that back. I don't know who I am anymore, and I'm afraid to see just how much I've changed. But," Remus took a steadying breath, and met Frank's gaze. "I do know that I've always stood up for what I believe in- and if that means going on a dangerous mission I might not return from, at least I've been _myself_ right before my death."

Remus' eyes were begging Frank to understand, and for the life of him, he was _trying_. But Frank just couldn't process what had been said to him.

 _I'm jealous of what you have,_

 _They_ destroyed _me._

 _I'm too broken to have that for myself._

Frank felt as though Remus' words were drowning him. He had had no idea that his friend had felt that lost, had hurt so much. He felt ashamed that it had gone unnoticed for so long- Frank was supposed to be his brother in everything but blood, and yet he hadn't been able to detect the fear and anguish that was tormenting Remus on the inside.

Slowly, Frank approached his friend, and laid a hand on his thin shoulder. His too-thin shoulder. Yet another thing Frank had failed to notice- Remus wasn't eating enough.

"Listen, Remus," Frank murmured. "I... you're not broken. You were hurt, Remus. They didn't break you- you're too strong for that. You just... you can't go through something like that and expect to come out unchanged." He hesitated. " _I_ shouldn't have expected you to come out unchanged."

Remus raised head until his amber eyes were staring into Frank's. For the first time, Frank really _looked_. What he saw grounded him. Remus' eyes were weary, tired, old, sad- but they were also braver than before, fiercer, more determined. Remus' battle had made him stronger, and Frank knew, he just _knew_ , that however the next day turned out, his friend would fight courageously. Remus needed to do this; he needed to know that he could still do things, protect the people he cared about. And as hard as it was, Frank knew that he had to let his friend go. If he was selfish and made Remus stay, his friend would be racked with guilt, and unhappy. Frank had to choose- would he rather Remus alive and unhappy, or at risk but feeling truly _alive_ for the first time in four years?

Frank closed his eyes, and every word he spoke weighed down on him heavily. "I don't want to lose you. But if you feel that you've already lost yourself, then I already have."

Remus' eyes shone in gratitude and understanding. On every tired line on Remus' face, a promise was etched. "I'll come back Frank. I will."

Frank's voice trembled. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Remus." he whispered. "I can't handle false hope."

"No hope is false," argued Remus. "And Frank? We _can_ win this. But only if we truly believe we can."

Frank stared at his friend for a long moment, thinking. Then he grinned. "In that case, I'll see you the day after tomorrow. Be home in time for dinner."

Remus' answering grin said it all. Frank left him alone to his thoughts then, shoulders tense but head held high. Frank knew that faith alone wasn't enough to win a war, but he'd believe that faith coupled with courage could bring them to victory.

Yes, they'd win this war. They couldn't afford to lose.

* * *

James Potter kissed Lily goodbye on her doorstep. "After this is over-"

Lily kissed him. "We'll figure things out then. Just focus on coming back."

James nodded. He took one last look over his shoulder as he walked away. He drank in her dark red hair, hanging messily around her face, and her emerald green eyes, rimmed with red, that he could get lost in. But it was her small, loving smile that gave him the strength he needed to continue on his way to Grimmauld Place, where the other Order members would be gathering.

In front of him, the war loomed like a dark cloud. He had to stop it before it swallowed everything he loved.

* * *

Remus Lupin hugged Frank goodbye. When he released him, Alice took his place, trying to squeeze the life out of him. Her slim frame was shaking, and her eyes were wet. "Please Remus," she sobbed. "Stay safe."

Remus' mouth quirked upwards. "Should I be touched, or is this just the pregnancy talking?"

Alice gave him a watery laugh but swatted his arm all the same. "Prat."

And then Augusta was in front of him. It had been a very awkward conversation last night, when they all came clean about being in the Order. She had been angry that they hadn't said anything before, but she wasn't foolish enough to act coldly towards them when Remus would be leaving the next day.

Augusta took his face in her withered hands. Her eyes were sad, but Remus knew that she supported him. With a wave of guilt, he realized that she always had, even though he had never given it much thought.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead. "Remus Lupin," she murmured. "You brave, foolish boy. I can't pretend to know what you're feeling, or why you need to do this. But know that-" Her voice cracked, and Remus felt his eyes pricking. "that I love you. You've always been like a son to me, and I- I just want you to come back safely. But you know, that's the hardest part of being a mother. Letting your children go- letting them put themselves in danger for the things they believe in. Your- your parents would be so _proud_ of you." Her voice cracked. " _I'm_ so proud of you."

She embraced him then, and Remus buried his face in her frail shoulder, his solid walls crumbling. Through his tears, he was vaguely aware of Frank and Alice gripping his shoulders in support. He breathed in the familiar scent of Augusta- the pumpkin bread she always made on his birthday, and the cinnamon she loved to put in anything that'd allow it. But it was time to leave her.

"And I," Remus said into her shoulder, eyes screwed shut. "I am proud to be a part of this family."

Nothing more needed to be said. As he walked away, walking backwards and waving, he reminded himself of the promise he's made Frank. _Day after tomorrow. Home in time for dinner._

He'd be there.

* * *

Lily Evans watched her lover walk away, biting her lip. She understood why James was going- in fact, she'd go if she had any experience fighting. But with every step away from her that James took, all the things she had left unsaid resounded even louder in her head.

"James!" she shouted.

He turned in surprise. "Lily?"

"I love you! I'll wait for you, but dammit Potter, if you leave me alone in this sitting room for more than forty-six hours at _most_ , you _will_ regret it!"

James blinked, then laughed. "Got it, Evans! I won't disappoint! I love you too!"

And she let him go.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew was breathing heavily. His head was spinning. He had betrayed them. He had actually betrayed the Order of the Phoenix! Even worse, he had betrayed his friends... James and Sirius and Remus.

James.

He was the sun, really. He spread light, and hope. Things felt brighter when he was around, less hopeless. And he was so in love. What if Peter had ruined that? What if, after this mission, James' flame would be snuffed out? What if James, proud, noble, strong- what if he finally crashed to the ground, because Peter had broken his wings?

Sirius.

Fierce, and loyal. He had his own demons, but he was always there to rally the forces. He bore their burdens without complaint, and Peter had broken his trust. What if the darkness that had always lurked in the shadows finally enveloped him? What if his iron grip finally broke? Who would rally what remained in the ashes? Who would salvage what was left of the brave souls who had fought in this war?

Remus.

He had been spat upon by society, mocked and ridiculed, but he was still more courageous than all of them. His kindness could move mountains, Peter knew, and Remus faithfully held up the weight of not only his world, but helped carry the world's on his family's shoulders. Would this betrayal be the final straw- would this be the blow that broke him?

Horrified, Peter realized that he had just delivered his friends to the darkness on a silver platter. And he couldn't save them.

But maybe.

Maybe this was right? Didn't the old saying say "Every man for himself"? By protecting himself, was Peter in the right?

The answer came easily enough. No man had ever been remembered in fondness for being selfish. All the men who were remembered fondly were heroes- selfless, valiant heroes who warred against the dark until their last breath. And Peter had let his fear rule him, let it cloud his judgement, and now, those heroes would be walking right into a massacre.

Peter Pettigrew wanted to be remembered. And maybe, since the world was already broken, he could be a hero in this new world instead.

Peter lied to himself often these days, and wondered if he'd ever believe himself.

He'd been a spy for the Order. It may be time to switch again.

Then he heard Lucius Malfoy call his name and thought, _or maybe not_.

* * *

Lily Evans watched James Potter walk down the road until he disappeared into the horizon. She shut the door and sighed, hugging herself. He seemed so far away. One thing was for certain. Lily would go crazy just waiting here.

She grabbed the broom and began to clean.

* * *

Remus Lupin stood before the door of Grimmauld Place, and braced himself. Tomorrow, the fate of the war would be decided. All he had to do was knock, and his own fate would be sealed.

Then again, Remus was no stranger to unfortunate destinies. With a terrified smile, he knocked on the door.

* * *

The dark night that cloaked Hogsmeade could not hide the few lone souls that were preparing to strike against those that oppressed them. They did not know that there was a traitor in their midst. They did not know what the dawn would bring. One thing was certain: lives would be lost, hearts would be broken, and blood and tears would be shed. The only question was who.

James Potter.

Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius Black.

Remus Lupin.

Alastor Moody.

Dorcas Meadowes.

Fabian Prewett.

Gideon Prewett.

Edgar Bones.

Mundungus Fletcher.

Caradoc Dearborn.

Marlene McKinnon.

Dedalus Diggle.

Sturgis Podmore.

Someone would be lost.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey y'all! I am SO SORRY for the wait! As you can see, this chapter is the longest I've ever written, and because of what's awaiting you, I wanted to get it right... I made my sister proofread this a LOT. Ready for some long-awaited action? I hope so, because this chapter was not easy to write! Anyway, thanks a bunch to everyone favorited/followed/reviewed! I love hearing from all of you. :)**

 **Warning: Violence and character death (sorry!)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Bring Him Home (Les Miserables)**

 **Chapter 18**

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was not an easy man to scare. However, this upcoming mission was testing his ability to push aside his fear.

It was the dead of night, around midnight, if Moody had to guess. He was leading the troops from Grimmauld Place to the port they were targeting. He scratched his scarred face, then ran a hand through his grizzled hair. The young people behind him, he felt, were walking into this blindly. They had no idea of the danger that lie ahead, nor did they understand the implications of what surviving meant.

Moody knew in the morning, once the Death Eaters reported the sabotage, that Riddle would look for wounded or sleep-deprived citizens. Then he would round them up, question them, and then execute them, or throw them in the mines.

And really, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that these young people were coming with him tonight. It should be their parents and grandparents fighting this war. These young men and women- uncles, aunts, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, cousins- they would not all make it out. Someone's family would be ripped apart tonight.

Finally, Moody stopped them outside of Honeydukes Sweet Shop. He scanned the streets, grateful that there wasn't any snow tonight to reveal their footsteps, and made sure that they were alone. The streetlights were dim, and all the shops were empty and locked up tightly. Not a single sound was heard on the nearly-deserted street. It was so quiet, it was eery.

Moody bent down and removed a grate from the ground- one that led straight into the sewers.

Marlene McKinnon wrinkled her nose. "Moody," she whispered harshly. "You don't mean for us to-"

"I do," Moody growled, almost inaudibly. "Now lower your voice, or you'll kill us all."

With those words, Moody lowered himself into the hole in the ground, let himself hang for a moment, then dropped to the tunnel floor with a splash. His boots squelching as he made his way further into the tunnel, Moody fumbled for a moment with the pockets of his long dark coat, pulling out a match and lighting it. It was all the light he would allow them.

He listened as his fellow Order members dropped down into the tunnel, and Caradoc, being the last one in, replaced the grate.

"Gah," gagged Marlene. "This _reeks_."

"What did you expect, roses?" Black retorted waspishly. He had been on edge all evening. Moody couldn't blame him, but he still scolded the two of them for being so loud.

"Did you get the map of the sewers, Pettigrew?" Moody asked gruffly.

There was a grunt of affirmation, and Peter pressed the carefully folded map into the older man's hands. Moody gently unfolded it, after handing the match to Sturgis. He examined it carefully, memorized the ideal route, and then tucked the map securely into his pocket.

"This way," ordered Moody, and they all fell in line behind him. "Black, do you have the weapons?"

Sirius nodded. The Black family had been collectors- stashed away in a forgotten room were several century-old weapons, such as swords and spears, crossbows and bow and arrows. Anyone left without a weapon used a kitchen knife from home.

Moody hated this. These were kids, barely more than adults, and he and Albus were throwing them into a battle with almost no training. At least Lupin knew how to swing an axe.

Many decades ago, Moody was leading trained soldiers into battles. He was working under a government that was brave, and strong, and noble. Tom Riddle had seemed like a fleeting shadow, hardly an influence, not much of a threat. They had let him slip under their radar, allowed him to build an army of followers, and by the time that Moody had convinced his superiors to look into Riddle's work, his numbers were so overpowering that when Riddle invaded, they fell. Moody had grown suspicious too late. He remembered that day well. The screams, the blood, the stench of iron burning his nostrils. But most all, he remembered the terrible feeling of being unable to do anything to stop the carnage around him, the knowledge that they were doomed. He remembered the searing heat of the flames as the old town hall burned, he remembered his lifelong comrades falling.

The one thing he didn't remember was the explosion that had cost him his leg and eye, or lying unconscious for hours before help came. He did, however, recall the agony of being crushed under the rubble, the large stones flattening his leg. He could recall the poisonous air, and the taste of blood in his mouth. And he hazily remembered the sweet relief of fresh air when that faceless man found him, and somehow freed his from the wreckage and carried him to the hospital.

His leg hadn't been salvageable. His eye had been replaced. He had scars that might not ever fade. But these injuries hadn't broken Moody's spirit- on the contrary, it had steeled his resolve to protect the citizens of Hogsmeade and bring down Riddle.

As they walked through the sewers, glancing every now and then at the map, the stench grew stronger, and the trash in the murky water increased. It wasn't long before Pettigrew and Diggle were both sick.

McKinnon rolled her eyes. "Thanks for adding to the smell."

Black shot her a nasty look. "Shut up, McKinnon. At least they haven't been complaining _every two seconds_."

McKinnon's eyes flashed dangerously. "Watch it, Black," she growled. "I'm in no mood to deal with the likes of _you_ tonight-"

Their argument was escalating, echoing off of the walls, and just as Moody was about to tell them to shut it, a soft voice spoke up.

"I guess we _don't_ need Riddle to drive us apart. We seem to be doing that just fine on our own."

McKinnon and Black stopped abruptly, staring at Lupin in surprise. "How do you mean?"

Lupin stared stubbornly ahead. "I mean, that to get this job done, we need to trust each other explicitly. Going on this mission means that any one of us would die for the other, and that we trust each other with our lives. Creating animosity between each other is the fastest way to our destruction."

"He's right, you know." Potter scolded. "You two are just going to have to get along for one night. Come to a compromise."

McKinnon sighed, looking thoroughly chastised. "You're both right." she admitted softly. "I'm sorry... Sirius."

Black bit his lip. "So am I, McKi- Marlene."

Meadowes smirked. "What a sweet reconciliation."

"Shut up." Black and McKinnon snapped.

"All of you, shut your traps." growled Moody. "We're approaching the port."

And they were. Now everything smelled of dead fish.

"Right," Moody spoke softly, wary about making much noise. "Gather 'round, you lot."

They did, huddled around the map. Moody took one last look at them all, trying to memorize their faces before he sent them off to fight a battle no one should have to face. He prayed that at least most of them would make it out of this battle breathing.

"Black, I want you to lead Meadowes, Dearborn, and Podmore above ground- take out those guards, steal their uniforms. Try to clear the way for the next team to get that gunpowder. Remember- _do not act_ until the gunpowder is off of the ship. Potter, you'll be leading Bones, McKinnon, Pettigrew, and Diggle- destroy the gunpowder, _whatever the cost_. Remember, this is bigger than us. I'll take the Prewetts and take out that monster, if there is one. Once we've done that, we'll join Black or Potter's team- whoever is struggling most. Lupin, Fletcher- I want the two of you to sabotage that engine. I'm counting on you all. Good luck out there."

After each team had studied the map, they were off, all nodding solemnly at each other before they parted ways. Once Lupin and Fletcher were out of sight, Moody turned to the Prewett twins. "All right, men. We have a monster to catch."

The Prewetts were uncharacteristically nervous. But Gideon still said, "Ready when you are, Mad-Eye. Lead the way."

Armed with only crude weapons, they headed off. Moody gripped his broadsword, his scarred fingers curled tightly around the hilt. Belatedly, he realized that a man with a wooden leg and glass eye might not be the best candidate for fighting a giant serpent.

This, like every other obstacle Alastor Moody had ever come across, did not stop him. He limped on, making sure to make some noise. After all, he wanted this basilisk to find him, not the rest of the Order.

Gideon started whistling. Fabian began tapping the tune on his thigh. Moody had to remind himself that these were two young men who were going into their first battle, and were deathly nervous. It didn't help.

"So," Gideon began, breaking some of the tension. "How exactly do we kill this basilisk?"

"No idea," Moody answered gruffly. "Never killed a basilisk before, have I? Just try to get as many blows in as you can without getting bitten."

The Prewetts stared at him. "That's the plan?" Fabian squawked disbelievingly.

Moody cast him a tired glance. "Prewett. I'm a soldier, not a miracle worker. I don't have all the answers- no one does, not in war."

Gideon gripped the hilt of his sword more tightly. "I thought there was more of a plan."

Moody was silent for a long while. Then, softly, he shared the one piece of wisdom he had gained over the years. "No world is perfect. There will never be a plan that is flawless. What we're fighting for is a near-perfect world. A world as close to perfect for everyone as we can get."

"Even if we don't get to see it." added Gideon darkly.

Moody lifted a grey eyebrow. "That's why we go down fighting, Prewett. We've done all we can at that point. There is no greater honor than giving your life for a worthy cause. All we can do is pick the side we die for."

They walked on, the two young men beside him turning over the older man's words thoughtfully. Then they heard it.

A soft rumbling, the swish and splashing of something large moving through the water. The horrible sound of scales scraping against the stone of the tunnels.

The three men glanced at each other. Moody's mouth set itself into a thin line and he growled, "All right, men. We have a basilisk to kill."

They ran towards the noise, letting it grow louder with every step they took. They rounded a few corners, and the sight that awaited them would be burned into Moody's mind forever.

They weren't kidding when they called it a giant snake. It was unnatural. Almost eight feet tall in height and five feet wide, it towered over the three men. It's scales were a poisonous green color, and each of its fangs were as long as long as Moody's arms. Lamp-like yellow eyes watched the approaching men hungrily, and the great snake then let out an unearthly wail, shaking the foundations of the sewers. There wasn't much room between the snakes body and the walls of the tunnel, which would make it difficult to land a hit.

For a moment, men and beast looked at one another. Then the basilisk, with an amazing amount of speed, launched itself towards them. Moody gave a shout of warning before diving to the side, landing heavily on his right arm. He heard rather than saw Fabian and Gideon leap out of the way.

Spitting sewer water out of his mouth, Moody sprang back to his feet, his sword held threateningly out in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Prewett brothers scramble to their feet.

With an almighty roar, the basilisk speeded towards Fabian, and Moody took its momentary distraction to squeeze himself between the wall and the monster's hide, then thrust his sword hilt-deep into its side. He wrenched it out and leapt out of the way just as the snake threw itself into the wall- he'd have been crushed if he had been a fraction slower.

During this, however, the match had gone out, and Moody scrambled for another one, wishing he had brought a lantern. At the time he had thought it would be too much of a hassle to keep lit while fighting the basilisk, but now he sorely regretted his decision.

After a few moments, he gave up- everything was too wet from the water. He had no way to light them, anyway. Blindly, he felt his way along to where the Prewett brothers were huddled, trying to stay out of the way of the thrashing monster.

Almost inaudibly, Gideon asked, "So, no light then?"

"No," Moody rasped. "Too wet."

Fabian cursed. "How are we supposed to fight something we can't see?"

"Our other senses," answered Gideon. "The water is a good clue. If we feel it moving, the basilisk is moving."

Fabian was breathing heavily. "Can it see us?"

Moody adjusted his grip on his sword. "Not if we blind it."

"How are we supposed to do that without light?" hissed Gideon. "You said it can't bite us!"

"One of us needed to create a distraction," Moody stated grimly. "The other two will then aim for the eyes. I'll do the distraction. You two- I hope you can jump high."

With those words, Moody ran into the center of the tunnel. "Come and get me, you filthy serpent," he growled. He stooped down and picked up a large loose stone, then hurled it with all his might at where he guessed the monster's head was.

It worked. The serpent stopped howling, and focused on Moody, its yellow eyes glowing in the dark. It slithered ever closer, and Moody held his sword at the ready, but held his ground. He must not move from that spot. No matter what, he _must not move-_

Then it happened. Fabian and Gideon, from either side of the tunnel, threw themselves at the beast, yelling and slashing their swords. Fabian's blow fell short, but Gideon's hit home- one eye went out like a light, and the monster screamed its outrage and yowled in pain. Since it was distracted, Fabian went in for another blow- this time he was successful, but so was the basilisk. It threw itself against the wall, and though Fabian managed to roll out of the way, his sword arm was still crushed.

He screamed in pain, and Gideon yelled in alarm. Moody charged the basilisk as Gideon rushed to his brother's aid, and narrowly avoided its snapping jaws. Moody slashed at its face, but couldn't land a blow. Gideon managed to pull Fabian out, and the three of them ran further down the tunnel in hasty retreat.

"All right, Prewett?" gasped Moody, glancing behind him to see if the monster had followed, even though he knew it was futile in the dark.

"Oh, you know," Fabian ground out between pained gulps of air. "I'm just- peachy."

Moody, who was pressed against the brothers, could feel one of them- probably Gideon- shaking. "It's blind," he spat. "And we're no closer to killing it."

"Shut it," order Moody. "It can still hear us."

Someone grabbed Moody's arm. "Merlin..." whimpered Fabian. "It can't smell us, can it?"

Fear wrapped itself around Moody's heart as the three men took in the implications of that question.

"God, I hope not." breathed Gideon.

Moody could feel the water lapping around his calves. "It's coming," he murmured.

As it slithered by- they could tell because the darkness became a little blacker- Moody whispered his plan.

"We can't reach its heart. We need to get at the brain."

Fabian's sailor language told the other two exactly what he thought of _that_ plan. Unfortunately, he swore a little too loudly- the monster swung around, its huge tail striking the wall behind it with a deadly force that caused a partial cave-in behind it.

The basilisk lunged at Fabian, and Moody rushed to intercept it. He slammed into the snake's head, knocking it off course. Moody fell heavily on his shoulder, winded. He lay there for seconds longer than he should have, and it suddenly occurred to him that he should have been bitten by now.

He rolled onto his back and, eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness, managed to make out the murky shape of Gideon Prewett- riding on the basilisk's back.

Now, the number of times that Alastor Moody had been rendered speechless were few and far between. This, however, was one of them.

"The hell are you doing, Prewett?" he bellowed from the ground.

The basilisk was bucking like a horse trying to dislodge its rider, but to no avail- Gideon held on stubbornly. "You said to get at its brain!"

Moody struggled to his feet, his shoulder burning. He'd definitely have bruises tomorrow, if by some miracle nothing was broken. Ribs and shoulder protesting, he made his way over to Fabian, who was lying on the ground in quiet agony. Pulling the injured man away from the danger, Moody called to Gideon.

"Kill it Prewett, this isn't a rodeo!"

"What do you _think_ I'm- holy mother of Merlin!"

The basilisk's tail, in a desperate attempt to dislodge its rider, had made an almighty swipe towards its head. The walls of the sewers began to crumble, and there was nowhere to run. Stones were falling from the foundations, and one hit Moody hard in the head.

Dazed and possibly concussed, Moody managed to witness Gideon Prewett's last-ditch effort to rid the world of the giant serpent by sticking his sword through its empty eye socket into its brain just before he fell into unconsciousness and he was once again buried alive.

* * *

Gideon couldn't hold on much longer, his grip was slipping, and the sewers were crashing down around him. With a burst of adrenaline, he took his sword in both hands and thrust it through the basilisk's eye socket until it hit the brain. Instantly dead, the great beast went limp, and Gideon slid off of its scaly hide. He still wasn't sure how he had managed to get up there in the first place- his only thought had been protecting his brother. He supposed Molly was right- love really could do anything.

He and the basilisk had been so close to the sea that there was hardly any ground above them- the land above them sloped down into the beach, and they were fighting near the grate that the seawater crashed through. There was so little land above them, any rocks or soil that fell slid right off the basilisk's body, so Gideon hid beneath its jaw until everything had settled.

Once it had, Gideon pushed loose stone away from him and stood up, coughing, exhausted and battered. He leaned heavily against the snake's corpse, trying to catch his breath. The whole night was a blur in his mind, and he was only now coming to terms with the fact that _he almost died_. He had come so close to never seeing his sister or nephews again. He shivered. He face was itchy, and when he scratched his cheek, he discovered that it was covered in sticky blood.

He stumbled away from the basilisk, then doubled back and walked shakily towards its head. He ripped off a section of his ruined cloak and wrapped it around his hand. He then grabbed one of the basilisk's fangs and yanked it out of its mouth. He had only managed to break the tooth in half, so he slid it in a bag at his hip that had somehow escaped serious damage during the fight. Who knows? They might be able to use the poison.

It was then that his shocked self remembered his brother.

"Fabian!" he screamed, running forward, no idea where his twin might be. "Moody!"

He tore at the rocks desperately, praying and sobbing, shredding the skin on his hands and tearing off the nails, but his mind didn't register the pain. He was solely focused on finding his brother, because he knew that he couldn't live without him. He just _couldn't_.

He dug fiercely through the rubble, searching almost hysterically for a hint, a clue, a _glimpse_ of Fabian or Moody. Then-

A hand.

Gideon tore through the wreckage, ever so slowly uncovering Moody's body. He was bruised and bloody, and his glass eye was cracked, but his wooden leg was still intact, and Gideon was almost certain that there were no fatal injuries. His hands flew to Moody's neck, and he sighed in relief when his fingers found a pulse. He quickly dragged Moody out of the remains of the sewers, then continued his search for Fabian. He didn't have to look far. Fabian was a little to the left of where Moody had been. His arm was still useless, and his nose had been broken, but Gideon was pretty sure that his ribs and limbs were still intact. He carried his brother over to where Moody still laid, and tried to revive the two of them.

The wind blew, and Gideon gazed out over the now-exposed sea. He shivered. All he really wanted was to sit here with his two comrades and let the others take care of the rest of the battle. But he didn't want to be an uncle that his nephews were ashamed of. He shook off his momentary cowardice, and grabbed the canteen at his side. He drizzled a bit of water over Fabian and Moody's face, slapping them lightly.

Moody stirred first. He groaned and clutched his head, then sat up groggily. "What-"

"It's dead." Gideon's voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. "The basilisk's gone."

Moody closed his eye. "Thank Merlin."

It was strange, Gideon thought, seeing the seasoned soldier so... vulnerable. Well, not vulnerable exactly. Just tired, and relieved, and hurt. Mad-Eye Moody had always seemed so unshakable. It unsettled Gideon to realize that Moody had been just as terrified as he had been.

They waited for Fabian to wake up, and Moody splinted his arm (he kept first aid supplies in the hollow of his wooden leg), before they continued on their way.

Gideon hoped the others were having more luck than they were.

* * *

Sirius was just glad to be out of the sewers. Honestly, the smell had been getting at him, too. But he'd never admit it, especially to Marlene.

Really, he didn't know why he was so hard on her. Maybe because he had spent his entire childhood rebelling against his parents and their twisted beliefs, and when the McKinnons would visit, Marlene was their perfect daughter. The McKinnons hadn't had radical beliefs, though. Be that as it may, Marlene was still an unwanted reminder of what he had failed to be in his parents' eyes.

Sirius had never liked his parents. They had always been too cold, too distant. He had always been jealous of the children on the streets, running to greet their fathers at the end of the day, their mothers letting them lick the spoon whenever something delicious was in the oven. His own parents had always handed him over to the governess or a tutor, and their family meals were dark and lifeless. Yet, no matter how much Sirius despised his parents, there had always been the small part of him that had clung to the childish wish that they could just love him.

When he had run away when he was sixteen, he had sought help from the one member of his family who had always acted as though he loved Sirius- Uncle Alphard. And Alphard had gladly given Sirius buckets of money, and Sirius had inherited even more when his parents had died.

The thing was, Sirius didn't like his parents, but he did love them. There would always be a part of him that longed for their returned affections. The thing was, unlike Regulus, he had been wise enough to realize that he couldn't earn their love. And he hadn't been willing to be unhappy if his parents could never love him anyway.

Regulus had died trying to earn their love. He had listened and obeyed, had done everything he could think of to make them happy, and in the end he had convinced himself that he believed them, that following Riddle was the way to go. It had killed him. A small, dark part of Sirius told him that maybe, just maybe, Regulus had actually agreed with their parents, and Sirius truly was the only odd one out in the family. Because Sirius couldn't handle being completely isolated from the family he hated. But then he remembered Alphard and his cousin, Andromeda, who had eloped with a "commoner" and been disowned also. He wondered how her family was doing. He'd have to check in on them once everything was over.

"Black?" whispered Dorcas. "What now?"

Sirius shook himself out of his thoughts. They were past the fence surrounding the port, thanks to the shortcut through the sewers. The small group sat huddled behind an old building, watching the Death Eaters as a large ship pulled into the harbor.

"Right then," Sirius cleared his throat. "There are, uh, maybe ten Death Eaters-"

"Twelve," corrected Sturgis. "I counted. There are twelve."

"Perfect!" exclaimed Sirius. "There are four of us, so everybody can take three."

Caradoc stared incredulously at him. "That's... not a plan."

Sirius glared at him. "Hey, who did Moody put in charge? Besides, there's not much to think about- go in, go out, like Moody said."

Dorcas glared at him. " _Black_."

Sirius sighed "Fine. We'll wait for the next Death Eater to pass us, knock him out, and strip him of his uniform. Then someone will put said uniform on, and distract the other Death Eater so the rest of us can close in on them and, well, you know."

Dorcas rolled her shoulders back, fierce determination in her eyes. "That's my kind of plan, Black. Quick and easy."

Caradoc spluttered. " _Easy?_ It's going to get us killed!"

Dorcas crossed her arms. "If you don't want to die, Dearborn, then you chose the wrong cause to fight for."

Sirius and Sturgis both unsuccessfully tried to turn their sniggers into coughs. Caradoc flushed, then squared his shoulders.

"Lead on, Black."

Sirius grinned. "With pleasure."

They didn't have to wait long. Two large, gorilla-like Death Eaters came by, hurriedly attempting to brush the crumbs off of their Death Eater garb- Sirius guessed that they had just taken a snack break.

Despite their size, these two weren't especially smart, so it was easy catching them by surprise and hiding their unconscious bodies behind a dumpster. Caradoc and Sturgis, who had the broadest shoulders of the four of them, quickly donned the new uniforms labeled _Crabbe_ and _Goyle_ respectively. Black cloaks, tunics, and trousers- to top it all off, a white skull mask.

Sirius watched apprehensively as Dearborn and Podmore walked over to the other Death Eaters. For five minutes, neither Caradoc or Sturgis did anything. Sirius could feel his palms sweating. Then Caradoc suddenly collapsed, and the other Death Eaters rushed over to see what the matter was. While they were distracted, Sturgis grabbed the nearest Death Eater by the mouth and brought the hilt of his sword down hard on his head. The Death Eater crumbled. Dorcas and Sirius moved quickly and quietly, take out the remaining Death Eaters with Caradoc and Sturgis before any of the enemy could call for backup.

Sirius grinned, slipping on a Death Eater uniform. He glanced down at the Death Eater he was impersonating. The name tag hidden expertly in the folds of his cloak read _Macnair_. Sirius mentally tucked the name away just in case Macnair hadn't made it to the Order's list of Death Eaters, and instructed his team to do the same with the names on their cloaks.

Sirius held Macnair's skull mask in his hands and paused. This could have been his, if things had been different. In another life, he could be the owner of this mask, and he could be the Death Eater the Order took down.

Sirius shook his head, his long hair flying about his face. Maybe he would have been a Death Eater in another world, but what mattered was that in this world, the one he was living in, he had turned his back on such practices. What mattered was that he knew that in this life, he was doing the right thing. Sirius didn't have a doubt in his mind that this path was the right one. If there was one thing he had learned in his life, it was that the right roads were the rockiest, the most difficult to navigate- the wrong roads could be just as troublesome, but every step was laced with guilt.

Sirius knew that this was the right thing to do. He put on the mask. After all, he thought, he could take it off just as easily.

For the next few hours, Sirius' team watched as the crew of the ship docked and unloaded the gunpowder. The night grew colder, and Sirius resisted the urge to stamp his feet in an attempt to bring some feeling back into his toes. Then it began snowing, and Sirius mentally cursed the sky.

Sirius Black was not a patient man. It was killing him, standing there, so still, waiting for the crew members to unload all the gunpowder. Perhaps this was why Moody had instructed them not to strike before the cargo was all unloaded- every second they stood there, the chance of discovery grew tenfold.

One of the sailors stepped forward. He held out a clipboard, and in a heavy accent that Sirius couldn't place, he said, "Could one of you sign this?"

A bead of sweat made its way down Sirius' neck. His mind was racing. _None of them had a Death Eater signature_. His thoughts were scrambled, he struggled to come up with a way out of this. He couldn't think of a single way except hitting the man on the head, grabbing the gunpowder, and running. In other words, compromise the mission and risk the safety of his fellow Order members.

Then Dorcas stepped forwards. She silently took the pen and wrote with a slightly shaky hand, _L. Malfoy_.

The sailor glanced at it, nodded, then turned and walked back to the ship.

Sirius thought he'd cry from relief. "How did you do that?" he hissed.

Dorcas stared straight ahead, and any smirk she might have had was hidden by her mask. "I'm his secretary, remember? I have to stare at his signature for hours everyday. I'm just glad I managed to copy it so convincingly."

"Meadowes," Sirius murmured. "You are incredible."

Dorcas was quiet for a moment, before saying, "So are you, Black. I trust you to lead us."

Sirius felt something cold grow in his stomach. Risking his own life was one thing, but holding the lives of his friends in his hands? That was terrifying.

He cleared his throat, and shook any doubts he had away. He couldn't afford to doubt himself now. His team was counting on him. And Sirius hated letting the people he cared about down. "All right, everyone. Make sure no more Death Eaters approach- we need to clear the coast clear for James' team."

The wind blowing his way was freezing, but Sirius paid it no mind. He was too nervous to feel the cold. He prayed that Moody and the Prewetts were safe, and James' team, and Remus'. He knew it was impossible for everyone who came here tonight to make it out alive, but he couldn't help but wonder whose face he'd never see again.

Sirius shivered. For all he knew, everyone could already be dead. He cast his gaze to the heavens above and found his namesake. The brightest star in the sky. His father had always reminded him of that- had told Sirius that he was capable of so much more than everyone else. But Sirius hadn't wanted to intimidate people with his light- no, he'd much rather guide them, help them. It was something that his father had never understood or agreed with, but in times like these, Sirius sought out the Dog Star to remind him that he could do _so much more_. Sometimes he felt as though he would never be satisfied, if he kept telling himself he could do more. But then again, he figured that in life, if you were completely satisfied, you would be _unsatisfied-_ Sirius believed that goals were a vital part of life.

His goal, right now, was to get everyone that he could out of this place alive.

He glanced once more up at his star. _Please,_ he prayed. _Please_.

* * *

James and his crew were crouched under the awning of a crumbling building in an abandoned alley, hidden by shadows. He watched as Sirius' team took out the Death Eaters guarding the port (very amused at the fact that Sirius had already disobeyed Moody's orders- no doubt he had grown restless, waiting for the workmen to unload the gunpowder).

James glanced over his shoulder, squinting to see the vague outlines of his team. Edgar Bones, Marlene McKinnon, Peter Pettigrew, and Dedalus Diggle. Bones, he knew, had a wife and daughter to get back to. Diggle didn't have any living family, save for a niece and her husband, but he was a very well-liked man. Marlene had a prestigious reputation, and Peter- Peter had a good many friends, James being especially fond of him. He, Peter, Sirius, and Remus had grown steadily closer since they had joined the Order- James would die for any one of them, and he knew the others felt the same. James couldn't imagine how he would feel if he lost Peter- the four of them were like brothers.

James and the others waited patiently while the boat docked and the gunpowder was unloaded. Once Sirius had given the signal he and James had decided on before parting ways in the sewers- a sharp whistle that sounded like a bird's cry, and was not out of place at he docks- James led his team towards the gunpowder, trusting Sirius and his team to watch their backs and eliminate any threats.

James tried not to think about what that really meant.

He crawled along the ground to the barrels of gunpowder, hoping against hope that the moonlight wasn't strong enough to give them away to any Death Eaters they hadn't accounted for.

James grabbed a barrel and watched while the rest of the team did the same. Carefully and quietly, James turned the barrel on its side, and began rolling it towards the sea. His muscles were tense, and his heart was beating so loudly that he was surprised no one could hear it. James knew that as soon as the first barrel hit the water, it would be time to fight. The sailors of the ship would come running, and then Remus and Mundungus would board the ship and sabotage the engine.

James was almost there. He inched his way closer and closer to the turf. The rhythmic crashes of the waves gently hitting shore calmed him. He got ready for one final push, ready to spring up and run to grab another barrel-

"OVER HERE!"

James leaped into the air, his heart skipping several beats. He whipped around, saw Peter waving his arms and yelling. Before his brain could register what was happening, Edgar had tackled him and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Peter's shout echoed through the empty night, and it seemed as though every living thing within a ten mile radius was holding its breath.

Then the Death Eaters came.

They swarmed around the Order, coming from all directions, outnumbering them. They were closing in, brandishing swords and other weapons, grinning, and James knew that they had known the Order was coming.

James' mind finally caught up with what he had been seeing. Peter had betrayed them- he had given away their plans and location, and the Order had walked straight into an ambush.

It was then that James Potter knew what true fear was.

"Get the barrels!" he bellowed. "Destroy them all at any cost!"

His team was moving. Sirius' was already retaliating, shooting at the incoming Death Eaters. Edgar Bones had knocked Peter unconscious, and James and the others grabbed the remaining gunpowder barrels and kicked them into the ocean. Barrel after barrel they rolled into the sea, but there were too many, and they were too heavy to move as quickly as James would have liked.

"LOOK OUT!"

James whirled around at Sirius' shout, and, with reflexes he didn't know he had, he dove to the right, narrowly avoiding a Death Eater's sword. He yanked his own sword out of its sheath and blocked another blow, his arms shaking with adrenaline. Distantly, he heard a loud rumbling noise, almost like a landslide, but he was unable to look. James' heart sank when he realized that his opponent was a better swordsman than he was. He was being overpowered when the Death Eater suddenly slumped forward, dropping at James' feet. James blinked, then looked up to see Dorcas Meadowes shooting a crossbow and realized what must have happened.

"Thanks!" he shouted.

"You're welcome!" she responded. "Pick your sword up!"

James didn't need telling twice. He grabbed his sword from where he had dropped it, and threw himself back into the fight, trying to make his way to the last of the barrels. He knew that if Riddle got even a few, it would be over- each one was full to the brim with the stuff, and the Order didn't have any means to fight such powerful explosives.

Suddenly, white-hot pain flooded through him, and he stumbled to the ground. An arrow was sticking out of his left bicep, but he was alone in a sea of enemies. He grit his teeth against the pain and stood up. Every movement jostled his arm, but James knew better than to try to remove the arrow- he might bleed out if he did that. Still, it was difficult to ignore the pain, and he let out a shuddering breath as he made his way forwards.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Moody and the Prewetts join the fight. There was a loud crash, and James turned to the right to see that one of the duelling couples had broken a barrel of gunpowder, its contents scattered over the ground. James prayed that no one accidentally set it alight.

James was almost to the last of the barrels when he heard a shout. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sirius fall to the ground, a dagger in his shoulder. Someone had stabbed him from behind, and James' heart nearly stopped, until he realized that it was Sirius' right shoulder, not his left. His heart hadn't been punctured.

Abandoning the gunpowder without a second thought, James rushed to his closest companion. He may even go as far as to say his brother in all but blood.

James threw himself down next to the disgraced Black lord, his hands clumsily dragging him into a sitting position, wincing at every gasp of pain that Sirius emitted. James pulled him close to his chest, mumbling nonsense. He was ripping his cloak into long strips, all the while knowing that he had no idea how to dress a wound, even if he could somehow convert his cloak into bandages.

"Sirius, Sirius, hold on, hang on-"

Sirius' eyes, usually a steely grey, looked almost black with pain. "J-James-"

"Shh," hushed James. "It's okay, you'll be okay. I know it, you have to be, you-"

"Think- knife- my bone..."

James gulped, his hands shaking worse than ever. He really, _really_ hoped that that knife hadn't broken Sirius' bone. That would be bad. Really bad.

"Let's- let's hope that's not the case, mate."

"Can't believe- Peter- _rat-_ "

James hadn't realized he was crying until right then. At the mention of Peter, his heart constricted. He couldn't face his betrayal right now. No. Right now he had to focus on getting himself and Sirius to safety.

Coughing, James began to gently pull Sirius out of the fray. The gunpowder that had been spilled was being kicked and blown into the air, choking the fighters and burning James' eyes. His throat itched and burned, his nostrils were aflame, his eyes streaming, but still he carried on, focused on getting Sirius away from further harm.

Sirius' eyes began fluttering, too weak to stay open. James didn't know what to do. Let him sleep? Would he wake up? Or keep him awake? Did he need to rest? In the end, James decided to try to keep Sirius awake- at least then he would know if Sirius was alive or not.

"Almost there," wheezed James. "Sirius, we're almost there."

James had abandoned the idea of the bandages, afraid that the dirt and gunpowder sticking to them would infect the wound. But Sirius was still bleeding, despite the knife still in his shoulder blocking the blood flow.

"J-James," whispered Sirius. It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but he seemed three shades paler.

James sniffed loudly, peering at his friend through dirty glasses. "Yeah?"

"I don't... I don't want to die-"

James began trembling, the trauma and his injuries snowballing into an oppressive weight that threatened to render him unconscious.

"You won't! Sirius, you won't-"

"I- I thought I was ready to. D-die. I walked into this battle... prepared for it. But I... now that I might... I don't want to. Too... too much I haven't done. Haven't been... kind enough. Brave enough. I'm scared. Reg... must have been terrified... Never really thought about it... did he die... right away? Or... did he have time to... to be s-scared?"

James shook his head helplessly. "I... I don't know. But don't- you won't die, I won't let you-"

"Don't... don't plan on it. Don't worry. I'll be... be around to drive you mad a bit longer, yeah?"

James laughed weakly. "As long as you're breathing."

Sirius' grin took some of James' pain away.

"Sirius... I have to go. I have to fight."

Sirius nodded in understanding, his long dark hair coming loose from where he had tied it back. His face was coated in sweat, there were multiple scrapes on his face, and his hair was plastered to his forehead. Nonetheless, a familiar fire burned in his eyes, and James was relieved to see it.

"All right, mate. I'll join you once I catch my breath, yeah?"

James stared at him for a moment, hoping Sirius was kidding about fighting with a dagger in his back. But then he shook his head and accepted it- after all, he'd do the same thing.

"Don't die Black, or I'll hunt you down in the afterlife and kill you again."

And there it was- the signature Sirius Black smirk. "Understood, Mum."

James swatted Sirius' uninjured arm lightly, then hesitated and squeezed his friend's bicep. They nodded at each other, a million things they couldn't express or identify flying between them. But one look into the other's eyes and they knew that they had been understood.

James Potter ran back into the fray.

* * *

Remus Lupin's world stopped when Peter alerted the Death Eaters.

Maybe, in hindsight, it shouldn't have affected him so much. Maybe it should have affected him more. All Remus knew was that ever since the mines, he had been holding people at arm's length, even Frank- and one of the few people who had managed to get him to lower his walls had just betrayed him in the most horrific way possible.

Remus felt tears pricking at his eyes. In the light of the full moon, Peter's pale skin was illuminated eerily. Remus could see the fear in his blue eyes, even from where he stood. But Peter's fear did nothing to lighten the rage that was slowly engulfing Remus' heart.

"Lupin, c'mon!" hissed Mundungus from beside him. Remus blinked. He had forgotten he was there. "I know Pettigrew's a bloody rat, but we 'ave to get to the engine!"

Mundungus Fletcher's words spurred Remus into action. Pushing aside the heartbrokenness he felt at Peter's betrayal, Remus quickly followed Mundungus onto the ship. One good thing had come of Peter's betrayal- none of the sailors paid any attention to the ship, allowing Remus and Mundungus to board without complication.

It was hard to ignore the sounds of the fight going on outside. The shouts of rage and screams of pain tugged at Remus' bones. He itched to be out there, defending his friends. He couldn't help but feel that anyone who died he might have been able to save, had he only been in the battle. But Remus shook that thought aside. He knew that the best way to help the Order right now was to take out their gunpowder shipment, and the only means Riddle had of obtaining it. He had to get to the engine.

Remus followed Mundungus, trusting that he knew the way to the heart of the ship. As they went lower, Remus' breathing became harsher. It was dark down there, and he could smell the salt of the sea and the sweat of the sailors that lingered in the stuffy air.

Remus pressed on though, ignoring the panic that was slowly seeping into his brain. As the minutes wore on however, his hands began trembling. He was gasping, and suddenly, the walls that he couldn't see were closing in on him and it was _too dark and he could smell the sweat and blood so thick he could taste it and the fear the fear the fear-_

"I can't!" gasped Remus, dropping to the ground and hugging his knees. "I can't go any further, Merlin, I can't, I can't-"

Mundungus stopped suddenly, staring at him open mouthed. Then he said impatiently, "Lupin, I don' know what you're playing at, but we have to do this-"

"I can't," sobbed Remus, tears pricking at him eyes. Had he been able to think coherently, he would have been mortified that he was having a panic attack in front of a fellow Order member- one of the new ones who barely even knew him, no less- but all Remus was aware of was that crippling hysteria that was settling over him, gripping him so tightly that he could hardly breathe.

Mundungus' eyes widened when he realized that something was terribly, dreadfully wrong, and he hurried over.

"Lupin- er, Remus, right? It's all righ' to be afraid, mate, but we haffta keep goin'. You don' want Riddle ta win, do you? Jus' look- we're perfectly safe down 'ere, nothing ta be afraid of, jus' walls and floors."

Remus shook his head, his forehead pressed against his knees. Mundungus was clearly worried, his accent coming off especially strong in some parts of his speech, but Remus couldn't focus on much of anything right now, especially his partner's well-meaning words.

"You don't understand," he groaned, feeling sick with fear. "I can't- the mines- _I can't do that again_."

"The mines?" Mundungus echoed, mystified. "But what... oh. _Oh_. You were in the mines? But why... we're not anywhere close ta there."

Remus was no longer aware of anything around him, but somehow he managed to answer Mundungus' question. "They... they'd send people down there. Deep. Where the air was thin and... and th-there was no light. It was cold. And the w-walls were too close. Everything was salt and blood and sweat... _My_ blood and sweat… and it was so cold... so easy to get lost... no way out, and everyone's _screams_. It made you mad. I don't know... h-how long..."

Remus trailed off, lost in his worst memories, recalling the suffocating darkness, the screams echoing around him, and the knowledge that he was completely lost...

Mundungus cursed. "They sent you down there."

Mute, Remus nodded. He was too choked up to do anything else.

Mundungus furrowed his brow. "Remus... listen to me. What happened to you was bleedin' awful, but you're not there anymore. They can't get you now. And look 'ere mate- you're with me! Which maybe isn't all tha' reassuring, y'know, but you're not alone. You won't get lost, I know tha way."

But Remus couldn't hear. There was this strange rushing in his ears, and distantly he wondered if he would pass out.

"Lupin!" barked Mundungus, seizing his shoulders and shaking slightly. "Mother o' Merlin, listen! You're not there! You're 'ere, and I can' do this without ya. Aye?"

The shaking brought Remus back to the present. "I- but I-"

"If I haffta hold yer bleedin' hand I will, Lupin! Yer coming with me, whether you like it or not. Got it?"

Mundungus' breath smelled of tobacco, and strangely enough, the smell anchored him. There was no tobacco in the mines. But here, with Mundungus, there was. He stood up unsteadily, his face stiff from his tears. Mundungus sighed with relief, and Remus began to feel ashamed. He avoided Mundungus' gaze as he calmed down. The fear was still there, but Remus knew he could face it with someone at his side. It was when he was alone that he was truly lost. As long as he was with someone he trusted...

...but did he really trust Mundungus? He hardly knew him, yet Peter, whom he had loved like a brother despite the short time they had known each other, had betrayed him.

No. He couldn't afford to be suspicious of everyone. He couldn't do this without Mundungus. And besides, Mundungus had just proved that he wouldn't abandon Remus to save himself- already, Mundungus had proven that he was more loyal than... him.

Remus cleared his throat, horribly embarrassed. "Er... thank you."

Mundungus clapped him on the shoulder. "Mate, 's all right. Bad things 'appen, and you can't expect a man to be completely whole after it's over, can ya? And, er... call me Dung. Less of a mouthful."

Remus gave him a small smile, grateful that, for once, someone was prepared not to judge. One thing about Mundungus- he didn't want anyone making assumptions about him, so he didn't make any about anybody else. He treated every man just the same, no matter experience, class, or age. It was refreshing.

"All right, then, Dung. You, er, know the way?"

Mundungus chuckled. "Aye. Follow me, mate."

They continued down to the engine room, where they worked almost seamlessly together- it was still dark, and they bumped into each other quite a few times as they worked.

It was almost agonizingly slow, their work, as they had to ensure that the damage was discreet enough that no one suspected any foul play. The idea was that once the crew members began the steam engine, they would know something was wrong once the engine got hot enough. Ideally, they would manage to abandon ship before the engine exploded. Remus knew some men probably wouldn't make it. It pained him to know that his actions would cause such a tragedy, but if he put it into perspective- the number of men who could die from this explosion versus the number of men Riddle could kill with the gunpowder shipment- it wasn't even close.

Remus didn't believe in the greater good. He didn't believe in choosing what sacrifices needed to be made in order to serve a cause. He did, however, believe in saving as many lives as possible. And he, for one, would remember the face of every sailor he saw, just in case.

Finally, he and Dung finished. They snuck back off the boat, and, thankfully, no one caught them.

Hiding under a tarp in an abandoned row boat, Remus let his heart rate go back to normal. He was beyond relieved to be off the ship, and he grinned at Mundungus.

"We did it," he whispered.

Dung looked surprised before grinning in amazement. "Aye. We- we did."

They reveled in their small success, almost giddy with the knowledge that they were _alive,_ and that _they had done it_. Remus could have laughed.

Then the sounds of the battle reached their ears. Their grins turned into expressions of terror, and they rocketed out of the row boat, Remus cursing himself for forgetting, even for an instant, that Peter had betrayed them...

Mundungus grabbed a crossbow and Remus grabbed his, and they quickly climbed up a nearby building, onto the roof, and began targeting their enemies. It wasn't long before the Death Eaters started firing back. But Remus didn't care, not as long as these arrows were being wasted on him and not someone he cared about. Soon, though, the air became too thick with gunpowder, and Remus left Dung, telling him he was going to find lower ground.

And he did. He shot into the crowd, dodged blows coming his way, and _fought,_ like he had never fought before. Everywhere he looked, he saw Frank, he saw Alice. He saw James and Sirius, Lily and Dorcas, Marlene and Mundungus, and so many more. He fought to protect them, because suddenly, with perfect clarity, he finally knew what he was fighting for.

* * *

Sirius Black was feeling almost... giggily.

Kind of drunk.

Yep. He was in a _lot_ of pain, and the emotional crisis was _not_ helping.

He had probably lost a lot of blood. He was tired, and yet, he knew he shouldn't fall asleep. The reason why escaped him.

Someone fell near his feet. They had dark hair. And just like that, Sirius was seeing Regulus, his body splintered and nearly unrecognizable in his coffin. It was strange, really, how Regulus' body was so broken, but his grey eyes were exactly as Sirius had known them when Regulus was very small- innocent, with an absence of hate and fear.

 _It was raining. Pouring, really. And Sirius was surrounded by the people he hated, as he numbly watched his little brother get lowered into the ground. There was no sun. That seemed wrong, somehow. Today was already sad. Was the sun too ashamed of the people they were burying to show its face?_

 _It was so hard to mourn Regulus. He had made the wrong decisions. But still, Sirius was plagued by the knowledge that he could have prevented this. This terrible event that was all at once so small, and yet, so earth-shattering._

 _He couldn't mourn his parents. He had hated them. They could rot. Now, that wasn't to say that he didn't wish their relationship had been different. In the end, Sirius didn't want to make them proud as they were. He wanted parents who would be proud of him as he was._

 _And he had a feeling that Regulus had wanted the same thing. Except, Regulus had chosen differently. When it had come down to it, Sirius had left, wanting to hold onto his identity and damning what his parents thought. Regulus had gone in the opposite direction, changing himself until he had made their parents proud. And Sirius would always carry the knowledge that had he tried harder, or even tried at all, Regulus might have followed him. As an older brother, Sirius had had one job. And he had failed. Abysmally._

 _The the first shovelful of dirt landed on the pristine surface of Regulus' coffin._

 _A single tear ran down Sirius' face, but no one distinguished it from the raindrops already there._

 _Then he was sixteen, and it was snowing outside. He had bellowed at his father, screamed at his mother, and had glared at his brother. That night had been a blur of almost-tears and a burning hatred. And the next thing he knew, he was sitting on a suitcase on a street corner, the moment his mother had burned him off of the family tapestry playing over and over in his mind. He was aware that he was shaking, yet he couldn't find the will to care. Sirius had just been disowned. He was no longer a Black._

 _Somehow, it didn't feel as freeing as he had thought it would._

 _Lips blue and chafing in the cold, Sirius looked up at the sky. All he could see were grey clouds. He missed the sun._

" _Sirius?"_

 _Sirius turned, seeing a man who looked very much like his father. There were slight differences, though. His father had frown lines- this man had laughter lines. His nose was rounder than his father's, and his eyes were slightly larger. He wore his hair longer, and he was looking at Sirius with sympathy in his eyes._

" _Oh, Sirius. I'm so sorry."_

 _And suddenly, the tears were welling up in Sirius' eyes, and he stood up, feeling so useless and unwanted. "Uncle Alphard." he sobbed. "Uncle Alphard..."_

 _Alphard spread his arms out wide, and Sirius ran into them. Here was the man who had acted more like a father to Sirius than Orion had. Alphard's hold on Sirius tightened._

" _Sirius, my boy... they don't understand. You are a miracle, Sirius, a miracle."_

" _They don't want me," he cried into his uncle's shoulder. "They're supposed to want me. Every other parent loves their children. They love Regulus! Why... why can't they love me?"_

 _He felt ridiculous, whiny, but a part of him needed to know. Nothing felt right anymore. Then again, Sirius didn't know when anything had last been right._

 _Alphard drew away slightly, looking into Sirius' eyes. "Sirius, son... do you really want to be loved by that sort of people? Do you really want that sort of people to consider you worthy of that love?"_

 _Sirius considered his uncle's words, and his heart sank._

" _No," he whispered. "No... I want them to be people I can love."_

 _Alphard smiled gently. "The truth can be hard, Sirius. But at least now, out of that house, you can stop lying to yourself."_

 _Sirius hesitated, before asking meekly, "Am I... am I a bad son?"_

 _Alphard's grey eyes widened, and he hurriedly shook his head, black hair speckled with snow flying wildly around his face. "No! No, no, no, Sirius. You are a wonderful boy. You're brave, and stubborn, and you always stand up for what you believe in, which is an admirable trait. Let me tell you now, Sirius, that you are the son I've never had- any man would be immensely lucky to have you as their son, and I'm so sorry that my brother can't see that."_

 _Sirius rested his head on his uncle's shoulder. "Thank you."_

 _Alphard smiled against his head and held Sirius tighter. "C'mon, lad. Stay with me. They can all burn in hell. You and I can live a happy life, free from their narrow-mindedness."_

 _Sirius sniffled and smiled. "But they'll disown you for helping me."_

 _Alphard threw his head back and laughed. "Son, I'm nearly fifty years old! I couldn't care less what those old crackpots think of me. Besides, I haven't used the Back family vault in years- I have plenty of my own gold. You and I Sirius, we'll live comfortably until I'm six feet under and you're worn and grey."_

 _Sirius felt a grin break across his face. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much."_

 _Now Sirius was eleven, and it was hailing. He was staring at his shoes, feeling miserable because his mother had called him a disgrace for getting Sorted into the wrong House- every Black was in Slytherin, that's how it was and how it would always be, and oh, how shameful, her own flesh and blood, Sorted into_ Gryffindor, _of all things-_

 _Needless to say, the whole conversation had significantly lowered Sirius' self-esteem._

 _Suddenly, his mother's screeching dropped to a furious whisper._

" _Just- go to your room, Sirius. I can't stand to look at you right now."_

 _Tears in his eyes, Sirius obeyed. He spent a few hours in there, terrified to go down to dinner lest he rekindle his mother's rage. Her disappointment was worse than her anger. Worse still was the blank face his father put on whenever he walked into the room._

 _There was a quiet knock on the door, and Sirius sniffled. Thinking it was the family servant, Kreacher, he said, "Go away."_

 _The door opened anyway, revealing a tiny, shy boy. His black hair was cropped shorter than Sirius', and his grey eyes were slightly darker. Other than that, though, they could have been twins. Regulus._

" _What do you want?" grouched Sirius. "A chance to gloat? Joke's on you, I don't care if you're their favorite son now."_

 _Regulus quickly shook his head, shuffling further into the room. He shut the door behind him, and Sirius scowled. Regulus had always managed to do everything right. Sirius had thought that going to school would be easy- he'd never imagined he'd get Sorted into Gryffindor. Sirius may not have been the perfect son, but at least his parents had always been kind to him. How quickly that changed, and all because of a red and gold tie._

 _And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quash the thrill of being in Gryffindor. There was something about rebelling against his parents that made Sirius feel alive, not just numbly stumbling through life- or sailing through life, since Blacks never stumbled._

 _That didn't mean that he wasn't jealous of how effortlessly Regulus won their affections, however. It drove Sirius crazy, the way Regulus didn't even have to try to be their parents' perfect son- he had just been made that way._

 _Sometimes, Sirius wished that his life were that easy._

" _What do you want?" he snarled._

 _Regulus shrank away slightly at the look on his older brother's face, but held his ground. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."_

 _Sirius glared at his brother through red-rimmed eyes. "I'm fine."_

 _Regulus stepped closer. "No, you're not."_

 _Sirius crossed his arms and turned away. "What do you care? They love you. Shouldn't you be sucking up to them and letting them fawn over you?"_

 _Regulus frowned. "No. They love you, too."_

 _Sirius scoffed. "No, they don't. They don't love anything- or anyone- who disagrees with them. It's just how they are." Sirius sighed. "Forget it. You're too little to understand."_

 _Regulus stamped his foot. "I'm nine! That's only two years younger than you!"_

 _Sirius grinned, and stuck his tongue out at his little brother. "Practically a baby."_

 _Regulus pouted, but Sirius was feeling marginally better. Teasing his brother always did that for him._

 _Regulus shook off his brother's words after a moment and crawled onto Sirius' bed with him. Sirius squawked in protest, but Regulus shushed him._

 _He leaned towards Sirius nervously, and whispered, "Do you want to know a secret?"_

 _Cocking his head to the side, Sirius nodded._

 _Regulus pressed his lips against Sirius' ear and murmured, almost inaudibly, "I think it's cool that you're in Gryffindor."_

 _A smile blossomed on Sirius' face. "Really?" he asked softly._

 _Regulus nodded excitedly. "Will you tell me about Hogwarts before Christmas break is over?"_

" _Well," Sirius said playfully. "I don't know... some things are supposed to be a secret."_

 _Regulus rolled his eyes and demanded, "Since when do you care about secrets?"_

 _Sirius grinned, cat-like. "Fair point. I guess I could tell you a few things..."_

 _Now Sirius was four, it was windy and foggy outside, and he was staring at his two-year-old brother._

 _Grey eyes were locked onto grey eyes, and Sirius frowned._

" _You don't do much," he informed Regulus. "You cry and knock things over."_

 _Regulus smiled and giggled._

 _Sirius crossed his arms. "It's not funny, you know. You broke my toy knight. He'll never be the same again."_

" _Toy!" Regulus screeched, sticking his arms out and opening and closing his fists. "Toy!"_

 _Sirius shook his head, exasperated. "No, it's broken. Because of you. You should be nice to me. I'm supposed to be the one who lets you into my bed when you have nightmares, and right now I think I'll just let you fend for yourself."_

 _Regulus blinked. "See-us?"_

 _Sirius sat down on the ground by his brother. "What?"_

" _Toy."_

 _Sirius groaned, and fell back onto his back. "I told you, you broke it!"_

" _Sorry See-us. Sorry." Regulus' lip wobbled._

" _It's okay, I guess. You know, Reg, you're not so bad. At least you don't yell at me. We can play ball if you promise to stop throwing food at me when we have dinner. Deal?"_

" _Eel!" squealed Regulus._

 _Sirius grinned, took his brother's chubby wrist, and shook. "Close enough."_

 _Sirius was two years old, and it was sunny out. His mummy was lying in bed, holding a bundle of blankets. His daddy, proud and tall, scooped Sirius up and brought him over to the bed._

" _Sirius," his daddy said warmly. "This is your baby brother, Regulus. Say hi."_

 _Sirius peered skeptically at the blankets, which he now saw had a face. "Hi."_

 _Orion beamed, gazing at his family. "My boys. Sirius Orion Black and Regulus Arcturus Black. Mark my words, Walburga, these boys will do great things!"_

 _Sirius, unable to understand his daddy's words, looked instead at the blankets. The face had dark eyes, a red face, tuft of black hair, and a squashed nose._

 _Sirius wasn't too sure about him._

 _But then Regulus smiled, and Sirius thought that maybe having a little brother (whatever that was) wouldn't be so bad._

 _Then Regulus began to cry, and Sirius thought that he would withhold his opinion of the newest Black until further notice._

Now, in the midst of the battle, Sirius stared up at the sky and found the Dog Star. He looked around until he found Regulus. How funny, he thought idly, how Regulus was the brightest star in the constellation Leo, or Lion... lion like Gryffindor...

That was when the world exploded.

* * *

James had lost track of time.

The night had become a blur of pain and noise, and all he knew to do was _fight_. Fear gripped him firmly in its hand, and James couldn't stop thinking of Sirius. Sirius, incapacitated, laying somewhere on the edge of the battlefield where anyone could end him...

"You FOOL!"

James and some other fighters turned at someone's bellow. It seemed that a Death Eater had taken a match and-

James' stomach plummeted. They had lit the last of the gunpowder. The fuse was burning ever closer to the barrel.

Everyone scattered.

James was running wildly, Sirius' wounded silhouette burned into his mind's eye. He had lost track of where he was in the heat of the battle, and James knew that he had to get far, far away from the barrel, but _Sirius was still out there_...

The explosion ripped him off his feet before he heard it. A blistering wave of heat slammed into his back, and he flew forwards several feet. He crashed into the ground, his glasses splintering against his face, tumbling head over heels.

He lied there on his back, gasping for air, every nerve on fire. The world around him was burning, and James felt horribly cold. Everything was blurred, and though he couldn't think straight, he prayed that Sirius had survived the blast. If he hadn't- James wouldn't think about that. He hoped Remus was still on the ship. The blast might not have touched him then.

James' vision was darkening. His eyes fixed on the fuzzy moon above him. He wished he could kiss Lily one more time. Tell her he loved her.

"Oh no you don't, James."

James weakly looked to the right, his eyes focusing on a pale face.

He struggled to speak. "R-Remus... you're okay."

"Yeah." he sounded relieved. "I wasn't close to the explosion- what happened?"

"Death Eater- lit the- last b-barrel..."

Remus nodded. "Okay. I- argh!"

James' eyes snapped into focus. His head was swimming, but concern for his friend won over. "Are- are you-"

"Yes," wheezed Remus. "Just a little banged- banged up. Not as bad- as you. C'mon. This will- will hurt."

Before James could ask what he meant, Remus had swung him onto his shoulder. James hissed in pain and struggled to stay conscious. But before he could sleep, Remus had to know-

"S-Sirius... somewhere... hurt... knife in his- back."

He heard Remus suck a breath in. "I'll look. Don't leave me. Hang on."

That was the last thing James heard before the darkness took him.

* * *

Dorcas groaned from where she had hit the ground. Her head was throbbing, her stomach was in knots, and she was sure that her leg was badly broken. She blinked back her tears, knowing that she had to get up, check for the others. She pushed her hair out of her face, slightly irritated that the explosion had managed to pull some of her hair from her bun.

With shaking arms, she pushed herself up off the ground, biting back a scream of pain. She couldn't move her lower body- it hurt her leg too much. Bracing herself, she looked around.

Bodies everywhere. Some were stirring. Some were not. Blood was splattered everywhere, almost black in the moonlight. Dorcas shivered. She inched her way forwards, trying to find a familiar face amidst the carnage- or maybe just her crossbow.

"Ah. Miss Meadowes. A pleasure."

Dorcas turned, her heart in her throat. There behind her, not even ten feet away, was Tom Riddle himself.

He was a tall man. Handsome. A pale face, black eyes, and defined cheekbones. His dark brown hair was swept to the right, and even though he must have been fifty at least, he could have passed as a man much younger. But there was no light in his eyes. It was like looking into the mind of a corpse. There was nothing to suggest that he was alive.

Her breath caught in her throat. Individuals in uniforms like the one she wore were flocking around Riddle, but she paid them no mind. All that mattered was that the Dark Lord himself stood in front of her. And she had nowhere to run.

Dorcas licked her lips. "How do you know me?" she demanded.

Riddle laughed mirthlessly. "When Lucius told me of his new assistant- one that looked remarkably like the Order member that was spotted not so long ago- I connected the dots. I am no fool, Dorcas Meadowes. It was too simple, really. Tell me where to find the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and you will be spared."

Drocas' heart was racing. She remembered how James Potter had found her- he had heard her description from the Order sightings previously, and had found her. Now Riddle had done the same thing- who else did he know about?

With horror, she realized that it didn't matter how much Riddle already knew. Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them. He knew all their names. Every Order member was in grave danger.

All she could think about in that moment was Benjy. How he had held his tongue throughout the inhumane torture they had put him through. And though Dorcas didn't want to die, she knew that she wouldn't do any differently than Benjy.

Head held high, Dorcas answered evenly. "I'd die before I betrayed the Order to you."

Riddle's eyes darkened. "So be it."

He raised his hand. In it gleamed a gun- Dorcas prayed it would be quick, because in that moment, sitting there waiting for her death was the worst agony she could imagine.

A small movement caught her eye. She half-turned her head. About twenty feet away was Edgar Bones, injured but breathing, staring at her in horror. He glanced silently towards Riddle, shaking his head at her. Her eyes softened. Barely moving her head, she nodded. At least someone would know what had happened to her.

It was like slow motion. She felt the bullet before she heard it. It ripped through her left breast, lodging below her heart, breaking her ribs. She hit the ground, her head bouncing once against the dirt. She was gasping for breath, but she was drowning. Drowning, and her vision was darkening...

Distantly, she realized that the Death Eaters and Riddle had left, but she couldn't find it in her to care. Was it all for naught? Everything she had risked for the Order, her whole life... had Pettigrew rendered every sacrifice worthless? The thought filled her with rage.

Through the blinding pain, she heard a voice. Calling her, but oh, how she wanted to sleep...

"Dorcas!" the voice rasped again. "Please, please-"

Her eyes on Edgar Bones. He looked distraught, trying fruitlessly to stem the bleeding of her chest.

"Don't," garbled Dorcas. "No use-"

"Don't speak," instructed Edgar. "We can still-"

Dorcas weakly grasped his hand. "No. It's okay. Don't- forget-"

Edgar shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Of course I won't." he whispered. "And my darling Amelia- she'll know about Dorcas Meadowes, the brave woman who died rather than betray her cause."

Dorcas' eyes filled with tears. "I'd like that."

"We will win," Edgar promised. "Your sacrifice won't be for nothing."

"I'll hold you to that," she whispered.

With those words, Dorcas Meadowes exhaled for the last time. She never opened her eyes again.

* * *

The explosion knocked Fabian and Gideon off their feet. Once they had stood up again, however, it was clear that they had no major injuries.

Fabian wiped the blood off of his face. "Gid- are they gone? Did we... what happened?"

Gideon shrugged. "No idea. Let's look for the others."

They stepped over still bodies, and Fabian tried to ignore the lurching of his stomach. His breathing was labored, and the explosion hadn't done his arm any favors. The pain was beginning to get to him.

As the Prewett brothers walked, dread began to settle over Fabian. The feeling grew until it consumed his every thought, and he halted.

"Gideon," he gasped. "Something's wrong-"

"Too right. It's the end of the line, _Prewett_."

Fabian and Gideon spun around, but it was too late. Five cloaked figures stepped out of the shadows, surrounding the brothers until there was no way out.

Fabian good hand went to the hilt of his sword. Hopefully, it was still intact inside its sheath.

The Death Eaters' sinister masks gleamed in the moonlight. The cold seeped into Fabian skin until he flt numb. His mind kept wandering back to a little boy with red hair.

 _I'll miss you._

Merlin. He hoped his nephews grew up happy.

 _Alright, Order. Don't let us down._

Fabian drew his sword, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Gideon do the same. He felt a pang of sadness for his brother.

 _Then me and Uncle Gideon can play dragon, right? When they come back?_

Somehow, the worst aspect of his impending death was that he'd never again play dragon with his nephews. There would be no more reading _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_ by the fireside. He'd never hold his youngest niece or nephew.

The five Death Eaters attacked. Fabian and Gideon fought with all they had, but as the minutes wore on, they tired. With a shout, Gideon fell, and Fabian screamed in rage. His brother- his twin- the person who had always been there for him, had just been brutally injured, and it tore Fabian apart. It tore him apart to know that he couldn't protect the person who meant most to him in the world. But he was proud, so _proud_ , that his brother had gone down fighting. Gideon always had been the bravest man Fabian ever knew.

As one of the masked Death Eaters plunged their sword into Fabian's gut, Fabian thought of how right it seemed, that the Prewett brothers fell together. As he landed next to Gideon's gasping figure, he thought that it seemed almost poetic- Fabian and Gideon Prewett, born together, died together, and did everything in between together.

The Death Eaters soon departed after that, and Fabian weakly grasped his brother's hand.

"I'm so glad- to have- been your brother." he gasped.

Gideon slowly turned his head, his eyes fixing on his twin through a haze of pain and exhaustion.

"You too. I'm glad- to have... known... you."

Gideon's eyes glazed over, and Fabian knew he was gone. A wave of anguish washed over him, but he knew that he would soon follow.

With a sigh, Fabian Prewett closed his eyes.

It was time to watch over his nephews from a higher plane of existence.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hey y'all... um. Don't hate me for killing Dorcas, Fabian, and Gideon? I know, I know, everyone loved them- so many of you have told me that you really like Dorcas, and my sister really liked the Prewetts, but well, they kinda… hadtodiesotheplotcouldmoveforward. Sorry. Although, I hope that they way they died was close enough to canon- Dorcas was killed by Voldemort, and the Prewett brothers were killed by a group of five Death Eaters.**

 **So. The length of the last chapter surprised me. I doubt that any others will be that long, but, well, I guess we'll have to see where this goes. This chapter will be the end of the "first war". From chapter 20 onwards, we've entered the second half of the story.**

 **Lastly, I regret to say that updates, while they haven't been frequent or regular, will be a little longer in the making, due to the fact that I'm now writing for the QLFC and the Hogwarts Challenges and Assignments forums. Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed (I especially loved the reviews from last chapter, so thank you for that)! And sorry for not responding to any of them— I couldn't quite think of what to say. Now, without further ado...**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Till We Reach That Day (Ragtime)**

 **Chapter 19**

When Sirius Black woke up, his first coherent thought was Aren't I supposed to be dead?

After all, he had had all those weird memory-vision things. Didn't they say that right before you died, your life flashed before your eyes?

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," croaked a nearby voice. "You scared the hell outta me."

Wincing at the stiffness of his neck and the twinge of pain in his shoulder, Sirius turned his head. He slowly grinned. "James."

James' grin matched his, but his eyes were haunted. "In the flesh."

Sirius swallowed with difficulty. "How... the last thing I remember, you pulled me away from the fighting..."

James sighed, and Sirius looked around. He was in a large room with creamed colored walls and large windows that let the sunlight through. The only pieces of furniture were the two beds that James and Sirius occupied, and a bedside table between them.

Sirius examined James. His face was badly bruised, and his arms were heavily bandaged. Sirius suspected that the damage was worse further down, but the blankets prevented him from confirming his suspicions.

"Well... I'm not sure exactly when you lost consciousness," James admitted quietly. "But after I lugged you away from the battle, I ran back into the fray. There was one more undestroyed gunpowder barrel, you see, and I knew we had to get to it before the Death Eaters could use it. I was close, too. But then... there was this shout..."

James' voice was cracking, and his eyes were watery. Sirius could hardly breath, such was his anticipation. James swallowed thickly, then continued.

"Someone had lit the fuse. Everyone ran. And then it exploded..." James faltered as he saw the blood drain from Sirius' face, but with one look at his friend, he soldiered on. "I was thrown- I don't even know how far. My glasses broke. I could hardly move... Then Remus appears out of nowhere and slings me over his shoulder. I told him that you were somewhere nearby, and then I lost consciousness. He found you and brought us both back here. Potter Manor."

Sirius' heart was racing. "Was Remus hurt?"

James avoided Sirius' gaze. "Everyone was. But Remus wasn't close enough to the gunpowder barrel at the time for it to do quite so much harm. You lost a lot of blood, I'm told. Remus kept you alive until he could get us here- Dumbledore knows a nurse who won't talk, her name's Poppy Pomfrey."

Sirius was silent for a long moment, taking everything in. It seemed bizarre, that all three of them had made it to safety after the disastrous mission-

Sirius blood turned icy. He saw red. "That rat."

James' shoulders slumped. His hazel eyes dimmed. "I trusted him," he said in a small voice. "I never thought..."

"I'll kill him," promised Sirius, every atom of his being filling with white-hot rage. "I'll KILL HIM!"

James looked at him sharply. "No. You're not killing anyone."

"Yes I am," Sirius seethed. "He broke our trust-"

"You are not a killer, Sirius!"

"For him, I can make an exception," growled Sirius. He had cared deeply about Peter. For Peter to have so casually thrown their lives around made his heart splinter— and he hid that by letting his rage boil over.

"No," snapped James. "Sirius, I know he hurt you- hell, he hurt all of us- but you are not a murderer. You aren't like them, Sirius. Besides, enough blood has been spilled."

Something in James' voice caught Sirius' attention. "James," he asked, a sense of foreboding filling him. "Who... who..."

James lowered his eyes, and the world as Sirius knew it ended.

"We lost- Dorcas. She... Edgar watched it happen. Riddle shot her. He c-carried her here..."

No, Sirius thought. That's impossible. I only just spoke to her. Called her brilliant...

But James wasn't done. "Fabian and Gideon... we think they were ambushed. The ground around their b-bodies suggested that a fight had gone on- Moody found them, he thinks maybe f-five Death Eaters."

Sirius shook his head weakly. "But don't... isn't their sister..."

James nodded his head sorrowfully. "She's pregnant. Dumbledore's telling her now- I can't imagine what she must feel like."

"Like you just realized that the world is more bad than good," Sirius answered automatically. "And you can't do anything to save them. The world only hurts good people, James. And sometimes I wish that I were good enough to be taken from it."

James looked scandalized. "Sirius... no, that's not true. What happened to Regulus wasn't your fault- it was a terrible thing, but people aren't bad— it's not just us that gets hurt—"

"No?" shot back Sirius angrily. "Open your eyes, Potter! Look at me- born into a family that hates me, a brother I never properly reconciled with six feet under! Or take Remus, for example— born into a class that's treated like dirt, and thrown into prison where he was treated like a bloody slave because he tried to feed his family! Arabella Figg, brutally murdered and hung up for all to see because she dared to fight for what was right! Benjy, cut to pieces for the same reason! Dorcas, shot and abandoned, Fabian and Gideon, cut down like they were worthless, and you! Your parents have been thrown into a cell, because you are suspected to working against Riddle. Which Death Eaters are dying, James? How could we possibly be winning?"

James scowled, a truly ugly look on his face. "Yes, Sirius. We're hurting. Everyone hurts. But. Why do you think half of Riddle's followers are rallying behind him? They're scared. And you raised excellent points- it does seem like losing, doesn't it? But you mark my words, Sirius Black— we will gain more members, the more we stand against him. As long as one of us is still standing, the people of Hogsmeade will have hope. And as long as they have hope, we have a reason to keep fighting.

"And yes, we've lost people. But they were good people- they weren't bad. The world didn't choose to kill them. They died protecting the people of this town, they died fighting for what they believed in. Don't discredit them by saying that died in vain."

Sirius, shocked, could only look at James for a moment. Finally, shame began to color his face. He stared at his blankets, unable to meet James' eyes. His friend was right. No one in the Order had died in vain, and saying such was insulting to their memories.

Sirius sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. "You're right. I'm just... I don't even know what I'm feeling."

James scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. Life is... messy."

The two were silent for a while, reflecting on their struggles and wondering when, exactly, everything had fallen apart. After a few minutes, Sirius turned to survey James. For the first time since he had woken up, Sirius wondered how James was coping with Peter's betrayal. James had a big heart. He thought it was the height of dishonor, to mistrust a friend... Peter's treason must have hit him hard.

Sirius felt awful for not thinking of James sooner. What sort of friend was he? Apparently one that could only think of himself.

"James, mate..." Sirius murmured hesitantly. "How... how are you dealing with everything?"

James seemed to wilt under Sirius' gaze. "I... Merlin, Sirius. I never thought that Peter would betray us. He... I cared about him. I thought we meant something to him."

"Obviously not," growled Sirius, his anger surging back when he heard his friend's hurt voice. "I'm still going to strangle-"

"No, no, Marlene I'm fine— really— see you later!" With those words, whoever had just barged into their room shut the door firmly behind them. With difficulty, Sirius turned towards the door to look at their visitor. When he saw who it was, his eyes lit up, his earlier rage forgotten— for now.

"Remus!" he greeted. Then his eyes narrowed. "You look terrible."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

James chuckled, still looking down. "Aren't you supposed to be resting? Marlene will have your head if you strain your stitches."

Remus looked a bit sheepish. "I know. I just hate being bedridden. I'm not used to sleeping so long."

James sighed, a fond smile on his lips. "How was work?"

Sirius looked at Remus sharply. "You're working? Why? You've been injured!"

Remus held out his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm not as badly hurt as you two. Besides, I can't afford to miss work. I've been resting as soon as I finish each day— I just wanted to check in on you both first. And work was fine, James," he added. "Nobody was grievously injured today."

"Thank heaven for small miracles," muttered James.

Sirius frowned sharply. "You still shouldn't be working, mate," he grumbled. "Why in hell have you gone from one life-threatening situation to another one?"

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Marlene, pushing her way into the room. She was carrying a large bundle, which, Sirius discovered once she had unrolled it, was a lot of sheets and blankets. Marlene opened a closet, and the three boys watched in silence as she dragged out a small mattress and made up the bed.

"There," she said, satisfied, as she eyed her handiwork. "Rest there, Remus. Now you have Potter and Black to keep you company. Everybody wins."

Remus tried half-heartedly to protest that he didn't really need to rest, but a glare from Marlene had him laying back against the pillows. They watched Marlene leave the room, and Sirius grinned wickedly at Remus.

"So," he said conversationally. "You don't need to rest?"

"Shut up."

"Boys, boys," scolded James, amusement gleaming in his hazel eyes. "No fighting, please."

"Can it, Potter."

"Shut it, James."

James laughed. "Oh, sharing a room with you two will be an adventure."

Remus and Sirius scowled, glaring at James. Really, Sirius didn't even know why they were pretending to be so annoyed, but the light-hearted banter was doing them all some good.

Then, of course, James killed the mood by asking, "So, Remus— how are you holding up?"

The mirth died from Remus' eyes almost immediately. "Honestly?" he muttered, lowering his gaze. "Not that well."

James sighed heavily. "I know what you mean."

Remus chewed on his bottom lip, and Sirius wished that he knew what his friend was thinking. Remus' amber eyes were dark, and he seemed much older than he really was. For the first time, Sirius noticed the grey streaks in his hair, and the worry lines beginning to form on his forehead.

Sirius pressed his lips tightly together. This wasn't fair. Peter had come into all their lives, and they had welcomed him with open arms. Peter had been given their support and protection, and what they got in return was a knife in their backs.

Sirius could take such blows. They hurt— like hell— but he could withstand them. James was too trusting- anymore hits like this one, and it might just break him. He was already cracking down the middle. And Remus had only just begun to have his faith in the world rekindled— Sirius feared that Peter's betrayal may have left a scar that nothing could erase.

Rage licked at Sirius' insides, growing and festering until it scorched his soul. Words could not describe the depth of Peter's betrayal. So often in life, words fell short of the feelings men and women were trying to express. Sirius couldn't find the words he wanted to, couldn't figure out how to explain how seriously this break of trust hurt him.

War was not just blood and battles, Sirius was quickly learning. War was anger and heartbreak, fire and ice, screams and sobs, distrust and misplaced faith. It was all at once a hurricane, a cyclone, a vortex, stealing the air from his lungs, leaving an empty cavity of a body in its wake. When will Sirius have given enough? How much more did he have to give?

Worse still, how much longer would he have to watch others lose what they had?

Was life a war itself? Sirius contemplated this thought. In life, people were so often consumed with greed, lust, jealousy, anger... They fell victim to grief, heartache, illness, and death. Some succumbed to madness, others to depression. Life was a constant battle for happiness, satisfaction, and it was a war that was never truly won.

He asked James and Remus what they thought.

Remus shook his head almost immediately. "No, life's not a war. It's a cycle. A balance. Death and life, Sirius. Sickness and health. For every victory there is a loss, for every tear shed there is a bout of laughter. It's never ending. When one side of the scale tips downwards, that's when there is a war, or a revolution— to restore balance. Life is constantly becoming unbalanced due to human error, but it is also constantly readjusting itself. Once one life ends, another begins. Balance. A cycle. Never ending. We influence it, certainly, but we can never break it."

Sirius frowned, taking in Remus' words. He wasn't so sure he agreed. Remus seemed under the impression that no matter what anyone did, no one could destroy a balance of right and wrong. But people could break such a fragile thing. No matter what Remus said, in mere moments someone could obliterate someone's life's work. What took centuries to build could be knocked down in a day. This didn't seem like a balance to Sirius.

James smiled a bit at the two of them, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You're both right," he placated. "And wrong. Life is a balance— people good and bad are killed, yes, but so are all the people in between. Notice how the world doesn't destroy those with evil intent, and nor does it snuff out those with good intent. That's because— no one is just good or bad. So, in order for the world to destroy every person who's sinned— it'd have to wipe out the whole human race! So, no, not exactly a balance. But it's the grey areas that keep the dark and light from becoming too overpowering— that's the true balance.

"But life is also a war. Everyday, men and women fight for survival. They compete for jobs, food, homes, even each other. Not a day goes by that someone doesn't fight for what they have, or for what they wish to gain. What really matters is what we choose to fight for. It's not just our victories that define us, but also, or maybe even more so, our defeats."

It was moments like these that James Potter's true colors shone through. James was a perfect example of a grey person. He had his faults— he could be arrogant, insensitive to others, and sometimes downright cruel to the people he feels jealous of. But he was also a man who kept his word, was unshakably loyal to his friends, had a sharp mind, and was very perceptive of his friends' emotions. You would be hard pressed to find a greyer man than James, but it'd be just as difficult to find a greater one.

Remus stared at James in wonderment, and Sirius could practically see the gears turning in his friend's head. Finally, Remus voiced what had been troubling him.

"What do we do about Peter?"

Sirius' anger ignited, but a glare from James helped him to reign it in.

"Nothing," James answered softly. "Absolutely nothing."

Remus frowned. "But he... he could have killed us all. He gave us away! He—"

"Nearly sent everyone to the gallows— or the mines." cut in James. He sighed heavily. "Mate, I know. But what can we really do about it? Hunt him down? Risk our lives for an act of revenge? It's not worth it. Our lives are not worth getting back at him."

Remus' shoulders were tense. "I've... I've tried so hard to be a good person. To keep my chin up when men like Riddle seem determined to knock me to the ground. I've worked so hard to see the good in people, and James, he had good in him. I saw it. I wouldn't have cared that much about him if it wasn't there. But he chose to forsake us. And I... I don't understand."

James slid himself out of his bed so he could sit on the edge of Remus', placing a battered hand on their troubled friend's shoulder. "No one understands. Not really."

Remus looked away, his eyes bright. "But I have to know," Sirius could hear his ragged breathing, but remained frozen in his own bed. "I have to know why he abandoned us. What did we do wrong?"

James' shoulders sagged. He looked so lost, but there was no map to get the three friends through the labyrinth they now found themselves in.

It was then that Sirius realized that everyone was at a loss. They were at a crossroads, and every path lead somewhere out of sight. James didn't know where to go. Remus didn't know which direction to head towards. Even Dumbledore couldn't truly know which path would lead them to the right destination.

Well, Sirius always had been the impulsive one. Like he did whenever he was at a loss as to where to go, he chose right.

On the bedside table to his right lay a newspaper. Sirius slowly began to grin as an idea began to take root— a bloody brilliant one, if he did say so himself.

"We didn't spread the word," Sirius belatedly answered Remus' question. "I think it's time the Order became more than just a whisper on the street."

* * *

The next day, some mysterious people had managed to sneak a pamphlet into every copy of The Daily Prophet. In the pamphlets were three pictures and a few sincere words. They read as following:

Dorcas Meadowes, shot by T. M. Riddle last night for helping the Order of the Phoenix intercept a Death Eater gunpowder shipment.

Fabian Prewett, ambushed and killed by five Death Eaters for aiding the Order of the Phoenix in the Death Eater gunpowder shipment interception.

Gideon Prewett, ambushed and killed by five Death Eaters for aiding the Order of the Phoenix in the Death Eater gunpowder shipment interception.

Gone but never forgotten. When darkness reigns, we rise from the ashes.

The people of Hogsmeade whispered excitedly about the confirmation of the existence of the Order. Riddle roared in outrage, and instructed his forces to closely monitor the Prophet from then on out. But the damage was done.

The Order of the Phoenix was out of the shadows.

The citizens of Hogsmeade were growing bolder with their words.

The Order mission had, despite everything, been successful.

Riddle finally began to fear them.

* * *

Remus Lupin walked slowly back up the road, heading to the Longbottoms' for the first time since the mission. Today, Madam Pomfrey had finally let Remus out of her care, which meant that it was the first time in a while that he could go home straight after his job at the factory.

He limped towards the door, his heart in his mouth. He was very eager to see Frank and Alice again, and even though he knew that Augusta would give him a legendary lecture, he was excited to see her, too.

Taking a deep breath, Remus knocked on the creaky old door. He waited a moment, then heard footsteps from within. After a few seconds, the door opened, revealing a frazzled-looking Alice. She just stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Then her hands flew to her mouth, and she let out a sob. She flung herself at him, and he rubbed her back, relishing this moment that wasn't, for now, tarnished by the memory of betrayal and death. Right now, it was just a woman whom he thought of as a sister welcoming him home.

"Alice?" called a voice from behind them. "Who's at the— Remus!"

Remus grinned at Frank over Alice's shoulder. "Frank!"

Frank came running, crashing into his wife and friend, and the three of them just stood there, laughing and grinning, trying to reassure themselves that yes, Remus was back safely, and yes, they weren't in immediate danger anymore.

Finally, Frank pulled back, and the trio made their way inside. Alice refused to release Remus' arm, and Frank kept looking over his shoulder as if to check that Remus was still there, but Remus couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was alive and breathing, still going strong with the people who cared about him. Remus let himself be dragged into the kitchen, where Frank crossed his arms and glared at Remus.

"So, let me get this straight," he began. "You decided that you could just take off on some life-threatening mission, stay away for nearly a week afterwards without contacting us to let us know you were okay— or even alive— and then you come waltzing back here with an I'm-sorry smile? You've got some nerve, Remus Lupin. And you better have one hell of an explanation."

Remus' elation drained away as all the events of the last week caught up with him. He sighed heavily, pulled out a chair, and sank into it. He stared at his hands as he delivered the news that he wished he didn't have to deliver. He knew the Longbottoms rarely read the paper.

"Dorcas, Fabian, and Gideon are dead."

The Longbottoms stared at him. "No," Alice murmured. "They— they can't be! How...?"

Remus felt tears well up in his eyes, for what seemed like the hundredth time that week. "They— the Death Eaters knew we were coming. They were waiting for a signal. When most of us were vulnerable, the spy in the Order stood up and... he gave us away."

Slowly, Frank knelt next to Remus. He gripped his friend's hand and asked, almost inaudibly, "Who was the spy, Remus?"

Remus closed his eyes. The betrayal was still so raw. "Peter."

For a long time, no one spoke. Then Alice pulled a chair closer to Remus' and sat in it, draping her arm around him. "How did they die?"

Remus answered robotically. "Dorcas was shot by Riddle himself. Fabian and Gideon were ambushed by five Death Eaters after the explosion—"

"Explosion?" Frank repeated sharply. "What explosion?"

So Remus recounted that night to his friends, watched as their faces grew paler and paler, their eyes widen and the disbelief that made its way onto their faces. When he had at last completed his tale, the kitchen was silent, and Remus shifted uncomfortably.

Then Alice smiled and took his hand. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Remus returned her smile weakly. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

Sirius watched stoically as Edgar Bones, Mundungus, Aberforth, Moody, Caradoc, and Sturgis lowered the three coffins into the ground. The funeral had to be held in secret, in the middle of the forest that bordered nearly a quarter of Hogsmeade. The Weasley family was in attendance; Sirius did not envy Dumbledore, having had to break the news to them.

He couldn't focus on the service. He was sure that plenty of people were saying plenty of flattering things, but he knew that those words were meaningless to the people in the coffins. Words could not describe how incredibly brave and honorable the Prewetts and Meadowes had been. Words could not encompass the entirety of their personalities. Words could not ease the pain he was feeling. But above all else, words could not bring them back.

Remus insisted that life was a balance. Maybe, for someone who had experienced what he had, the idea that his sufferings had allowed someone else happiness was comforting. But not for Sirius. It just made him wonder who got to choose who was hurt and who was healed. Who died and who lived.

Who loved and who lost.

Sirius could hardly look at Marlene and Mary. They had been the closest to Dorcas. Sirius felt guilty about Dorcas' death— he had, after all, led her group. And James, anticipating these thoughts, had already pulled him aside, assuring him that what had happened was Peter's fault. But James hadn't lost someone he had been responsible for. Mad-Eye understood. This was the closest to tears that Sirius had ever seen him.

Moody had become separated from the Prewetts after the explosion. He had been the one to find their bodies afterwards.

Sirius watched stonily as the other mourners paid their respects and left, heads bowed in reverence. He wasn't aware of what was going on around him, and could practically feel the disapproving glares of the other people there. Sirius didn't care. All he could see was black. Black clothing. A black sky. Dark expressions and dark coffins.

Black.

It haunted him. It was the surname he hated, belonging to the family he despised. It was the color of storms, of disasters, of death. He was forever linked to all these things, and he wondered when he would finally be able to escape the plague that was the dreadful color black.

One day, Sirius swore to himself, things would be brighter. One day, Hogsmeade wouldn't be ruled by hate, or overrun with fear. Instead of sobbing on the streets he would hear laughter; instead of tears at night there would be smiles.

One day. But not today.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hey, y'all! *laughs nervously* I'm not dead! ...I am SO SORRY for the two (three?) month long wait. It won't happen again. Things are settling down, so… Also, sorry this chapter isn't very plot-forwarding— it's more fluff, but important for Snape's character development.**

 **I fully intend to finish this story. It's one of my favorites that I've written so far. Don't lose hope! I even have the next few chapters planned out. See? I'm very dedicated to this story! :D**

 **Anyway, thanks once more to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed. You guys are so great and kind. :) You inspire me to keep writing! Also, check out the poll on my profile— once this story is over, I'll do a one-shot centered around whoever wins.**

 **Quick shoutout to my sister, for beta'ing, and Anonymous Reader— I can't respond to your reviews, but they make my day. :)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Lily's Eyes (The Secret Garden)**

 **Chapter 20**

James Potter wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Really, this shouldn't be so hard. He and Lily had been courting for nearly six months. They had been lying low ever since the previous winter's disastrous events, when three of the people they cared very much about had died. Lily had been his rock the past year. Without her, he would never had been able to stay under Riddle's radar, or help Sirius to do the same. The need to remain unnoticed had been challenging for the both of them, but Lily had patiently guided them through it. The Order had only been mildly active in the war, as Albus wanted to get a feel for Riddle's plans before they struck once more.

Lily had also helped him through the death of his parents. About four months ago, his mother and father had both died of illness in captivity. Thankfully, James had been able to visit them before they died, and spend their last few minutes with them. That had been a dark few months, but as his parents had been an older couple when they had him, it didn't surprise James that they had succumbed to the disease. But Lily, wonderful as she was, had comforted him and guided him through each day.

Now the trees were all full and green, and the wind was growing warmer by the day. James was thrilled to have Lily in his life, and he hoped that she wouldn't mind the huge step he was planning on taking.

The ring in his pocket felt heavier than ever.

The thing was, James had never really considered marriage. He had always assumed that he'd be married to the war effort, and when that was done... well, he wasn't sure. But then Lily came along, and James couldn't exactly say that he was unhappy with the way she had changed his plans.

"Are you all right, James? You look pale."

James couldn't help the nervous grin that spread over his face as she sat beside him. They were in the sitting room of Potter Manor, after they had shared a delicious lunch together. It had been a very pleasant experience, and James knew that this was the right moment to propose. Still, his nerves distracted him.

"Me? I'm fine, Lily. Really."

She raised a thin red eyebrow at him skeptically. "You don't seem so sure about that."

He gave her a questioning look, and she pointed at his leg, which he hadn't realized he had been bouncing anxiously.

"Oh." His leg stilled. "Sorry."

Lily frowned, her beautiful green eyes clouded with worry. "James, answer me honestly. Are you all right?"

James sucked in a breath. He had been planning to propose that evening after a romantic dinner, but he wasn't sure he'd make it that long.

He slid off of the chair he was sitting in and got down on one knee. Lily's eyes widened, and she looked at James in surprise.

"James—"

"Lily," he began, his hands shaking as he clumsily grappled for the ring in his pocket. He held it out to her, admiring the simple elegance of the gold band— he knew Lily wouldn't appreciate a lavish, needlessly expensive ring. No, the thin gold band with two diamonds mounted in the center were more than enough for her, he knew. "We've known each other for almost a year now— I know that that's not a lot of time, but I hope you agree with me when I say it was one of the happiest years of my life. I don't want to pressure you into anything, but since the war is heightening I want you to know that I want something permanent for us. If I have to go away again, or if you do, I don't want you to doubt how much I love you. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is—"

Lily was already nodding, hands clamped tightly over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Yes," her voice was muffled. "Yes, of course I will!"

James laughed a little, his heart swelling with joy. "You— you didn't let me finish."

She glared at him, but the effect was ruined by her smile. "Well hurry up, you git!"

"Lily Evans," he said slowly, enjoying how she kicked his ankle to get him to talk faster. "Lily Evans, will you marry me?"

She threw her arms around him and knocked them both to the ground. The next thing James knew, they were kissing, and he was clumsily sliding the ring on her finger.

"Is that a yes?" he murmured against her lips.

"Yes," she whispered. "But if you make me say it again, I'll change my mind about you and run off with Sirius instead."

* * *

The following week was hectic.

James had had no idea how much planning went into a wedding. He had always thought that all you really had to do was invite a few people, decide on a place, and buy the clothes necessary.

He hadn't thought about the food, flowers, color scheme, or how many people would fit in the seats provided. It was exhausting, planning a wedding. Lily's patience was nonexistent, Alice kept pestering him about their unplanned honeymoon, and Frank kept giving him advice that James was ninety percent sure he would never need.

He couldn't wipe the grin off of his face.

Of course, the Order was very much involved— Moody was trying to find a place for the wedding that was hidden from any and all Death Eaters, but was also, well, accessible.

The easiest part, in James' opinion, was putting together the wedding party. He had asked Sirius to be the best man, and the black-haired man had agreed enthusiastically. Remus and Frank had both agreed to be groomsmen, and James tried to shake off the sorrow he felt that Peter would not be attending.

Lily had asked Marlene, Alice, and Mary to all be bridesmaids, all of which happily agreed. Alice was now seven months pregnant, and just the sight of her made James insanely excited for what his future may one day hold. He appreciated Frank more every day, admiring how well the man seemed to balance family life and the Order. James wasn't married yet, but he already knew that he would have a hard time deciding between the two.

"James?"

James turned, looking for the person who had spoken. It was a frazzled-looking Remus, making his way towards James through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. The nobleman was supposed to be out getting groceries, but he had let his mind wander and had passed the market a while ago.

"Hey, mate! What brings you here?"

Remus shrugged, hoisting a large sack higher up on his shoulder. "Some odd jobs. Why are you way out here? People are getting suspicious."

James looked around and realized that Remus was right— he had accidently walked into the poorer part of town. He was getting strange looks from passerby— aristocrats didn't just stroll down the roads here; normally they made life harder for the people living there.

"Oh." James laughed a little awkwardly. "Guess I just didn't think about where I was going."

Remus smirked, the three scars along his jaw stretching. "Wedding jitters?"

James laughed for real this time. "Maybe! Just think— in about a week, I'll have a _wife_."

Remus looked a little wistful as he said, "Must be nice. To have someone care that much about you, I mean."

James felt a bit guilty— he had been going on and on about the upcoming wedding lately, but he hadn't stopped to consider how that might sound to Remus. "I was just released from prison" wasn't exactly a great conversation starter, no matter what the circumstances of his arrest were.

"It is nice," James said softly. He decided to change the subject. "Hey, have you—"

"LUPIN!"

Remus flinched, the heavy sack on his back knocking against his legs. He glanced helplessly at James.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was marching towards them. Ice blue eyes were locked onto Remus' hunched figure. Steel-gray hair fell to the man's shoulders, framing a heavily scarred face. While Remus' slight frame was also littered with scars, he gave an aura of calm and kindness. This man was the opposite of that. He seemed to scream _threatening_.

Head bowed, Remus partially turned towards the fuming stranger. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically meek. "Yessir?"

James frowned at the way Remus' words ran together. He was normally so articulate— he was very smart, and his actions and words showed it. Now, however, he seemed to shrink in on himself.

The man grabbed Remus by the collar, and James' jaw dropped. "You look at me when I'm talking to you, boy." the man growled. Remus slowly raised his eyes, the amber orbs strangely empty. "I asked you to bring back my armor nearly an hour ago—"

"It was only half an hour ago," Remus corrected. "and I was on my way back from picking it up. Sir."

Remus' employer— for who else could it be?— narrowed his eyes menacingly. "Don't give me cheek, you worthless _dog_. You owe me a debt, and you're gonna damn well pay it—"

"I was on my way back!" Remus insisted. "I just—"

"Don't interrupt me, you scamp!" the man roared, and his fist connected with Remus' jaw with a resounding _crack_ , and Remus was knocked off his feet.

James wrenched himself out of his shocked state and jumped to his friend's aid.

"Hey!" he shouted, moving so he was standing in between Remus and the other man. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The man snarled, taking in James' finery, disgust etched upon every line on his face. "Stay out of this, _my lord_. This is between me and the boy."

James scowled. "You don't have any right to treat him like that—"

"He works for me, he should be able to follow basic orders without getting sidetracked—"

"He was helping me! And I don't care if he works for you, no one deserves to be treated like that—"

"He's worth less than your boots—"

"He's not!" James was fuming, hands clenched tightly at his sides. "He's quitting immediately, that much is for certain! So get your own damned armor, you scoundrel—"

The man laughed, a hollow, bone-chilling sound. "Quit? Why, my lord," The man leaned forwards, until he was nose-to-nose with James. " _He can't afford to_."

James faltered as the meaning of those words sank in. Yes, he had known that there were many men and women who did not have nearly the same amount of luxuries that he enjoyed, but never had it crossed his mind that they might be forced to stay in a bad situation.

Through his stupor, James didn't notice Remus get to his feet. "I'll be along shortly," he murmured, eyes down. He gestured to the now-empty sack that the other man had spilled. "I need to pick up your armor."

The older man loomed threateningly over Remus. "You'd better, boy, or there will be hell to pay."

With those words, he stocked off, leaving the two young men standing there silently.

James couldn't look at Remus. He felt so naive; he'd always been aware that there were situations he couldn't even imagine being in, but he was still shocked at how bad things really were. He desperately wished that he could just sit down with someone and have them make up a list of everything his poorer friends had to deal with. That way, he wouldn't have to keep playing the fool when things came to light.

Remus knelt down and began to pick up the scattered armor. This angered James, but his rage was directed at Remus.

"I meant it when I said that you'd quit." His voice was quiet, but even a child wouldn't be able to miss the heat in his words.

Remus kept his head down. "And he was right when he said that I couldn't afford to."

James whipped around and punched the wall of the building behind him. "Damn it, Remus! Why?"

Remus' voice was tight, and James could tell that he was getting tired of this conversation. "My father gambled, James. I'm not bitter about it; sometimes he won and brought a decent haul home. But, obviously, he met his match with Greyback and ended up in debt."

James frowned. "But if he played against Greyback, how did he end up indebted _to_ him?"

Remus shook his head. "He borrowed money from Greyback so he would have enough to match the other players' bets. Dad was good at cards. The agreement was that they'd each get half of whatever he won. But Dad blew it. All the money gone— including what had been Greyback's. Then Dad spent the rest of his life trying to pay Greyback back and keep me and mum alive. When he was declared MIA, that responsibility fell to me."

James scowled, his glasses glinting in the dim light. Knowing what the answer would be, James began to ask, "Could I pay—"

"No." Remus interrupted firmly. "This is something I have to do for myself."

James frowned again. Part of him understood where Remus was coming from, but a more prominent part of him wanted his friend to relent and accept his help so he could escape from Greyback. James kicked at the ground in front of him. He was a very loyal person— any pain his friends were in, he felt. He was angry for Remus, and didn't appreciate how calmly Remus was taking the situation. It shouldn't be like this. Remus shouldn't be so accepting of the situation. He shouldn't be used to being treated badly.

It was then that he knew.

This mistreatment wouldn't end. Not for Remus, or anyone else of the lower class— not unless Riddle was stopped and somebody honorable took control. But James knew that the Order couldn't topple Riddle's throne alone; it was too tall an order. He decided that he needed to be the change, or at least be the start. He needed to prove to the poorer residents of Hogsmeade that he wasn't just some faceless noble who promised pretty things but never delivered. He would prove that he legitimately cared about them.

He'd use his own wedding as an example.

He'd set a budget. Maybe like the one Frank and Alice had had when they had been wed. He wouldn't order fancy foods, or hire expensive musicians. It would be a small ceremony, and he wouldn't accept any wedding gifts. It'd be open doors, too, so anyone from town could attend. He didn't need a big party. All he really needed was Lily.

He just hoped she agreed.

* * *

As it turned out, she did. She really, really did. She agreed so much, in fact, that she threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him fiercely.

He laughed into her mouth, pulling back slightly. "What was that for?"

Her eyes shone, and James knew that any decision of his that put _that_ look on her face was not one that he'd regret. "Oh, James... It's just, you've grown so much."

Uh oh. Now his future wife sounded like his mother. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Lily must have read his expression, because she punched his arm. Hard. "Not like that! Just... you're really starting to understand how the other side lives, and you care about it. More than that, you want to _do_ something about it. And that means the world to me."

James tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm just glad you think it's a good idea."

Lily grinned. "Oh, definitely. Speaking of weddings, though, what kind of cake do you want? I'm _not_ sacrificing my dessert."

James laughed. "I dunno. You pick."

Lily glared at him. "You do realize that when I ask you for your opinion, I actually _want your opinion,_ right?"

James shrugged. "I pick what you pick."

Lily rolled her eyes, but her expression was fond. "Idiot."

James kissed her temple. "Yeah, probably."

* * *

Severus Snape glared at the cobblestone road. Everyone knew. Potter's wedding wasn't a secret. Neither was his bride. Lily Evans. No.

 _Lily Potter._

That's what she was doing, wasn't it? She was turning her back on her past, her life, the people she grew up with, to commit herself to _him_.

Potter was a bully, a privileged brat who had no idea how arrogant he was, how insensitive. He knew nothing of struggle or sacrifice. A war was coming, and Potter would be among the first to fall. Snape did not understand why Lily was tying herself to him _now._ The Dark Lord would descend upon them, and Potter would drag her down with him.

What did Potter have that he didn't? Money? Riddle had promised him his share. Power? Once Riddle had complete control over Hogsmeade, his followers would be at his right side. Love? _Didn't she know that he'd always loved her?_

Snape angrily shook his head. He looked down his hooked nose at his shadow. It was too nice a day for him to be feeling so furious. At Potter, at himself, at Lily— at the world.

Life was not easy for him. Every smile had its price. He'd learned that he stayed rich if he didn't bother pretending to be pleased with what he was given.

He was terrified to lose Lily; he was terrified to chase after her. She was his world— if she rejected him, then he'd truly have nothing.

The broken glass on the road reminded him that she already had.

She would marry Potter; he would be forgotten. Life would move around him, but he would remain frozen. If there was no one left to live for, how did one live for himself?

Snape stared at the shards by his feet— a bottle smashed into tiny fragments. His face was reflected in them a thousand times over. He was colorless, his eyes were empty. If Lily was life, then he was death. He loved her, needed her to stay alive.

Snape vowed to win her favor. If it took Potter's death for her to finally see the truth of the war, then so be it; he would ensure her safety and welcome her back into his life when the war was over. He'd protect her from Riddle; the dictator's followers were promised a reward, and Lily's life would be his.

* * *

Needless to say, Mad-Eye did not approve of their decision to have an open-doors wedding.

"It's just begging for something to go wrong," he griped.

James knew that he was right. It was dangerous, foolish for them to do this when the war hung in such delicate balance. Still, neither bride nor groom could be persuaded to change their plans. This was something to give the people hope, to lift morale, to move towards social equality. A part of James thought that as risky as inviting whoever could come was, closing the doors to the wedding would be even more disastrous. The people of Hogsmeade needed to know that the whispers of change weren't just empty promises.

So against the better judgement of most of their friends, James and Lily held the ceremony out in plain sight, and invited everyone they came across. They did have a budget planned, albeit a rather large one. James couldn't help it though; he wanted to make sure that all the guests, for once in their life, had enough to eat.

As a result, there wasn't much money to spend on music, decorations, or even very many chairs. But their friends pitched in, and in the end, the ceremony had been set up in a flowery field near where Lily had grown up. There was an odd assortment of chairs around a makeshift altar, and a table set up behind the seats filled with food. James was standing by Sirius and Albus, best man and minister respectively. The seats were beginning to fill up, and the nerves were beginning to set in.

"Sirius," he whispered frantically. "What if I forget my vows?"

Sirius' left eye twitched. "You won't."

James glanced at him in alarm. "How can you be sure?"

Sirius' smile seemed strained. "Because you practiced them all last night. Repeatedly. It's more likely that Lily will elope with Remus than you'll forget your vows."

James' eyes widened. "Is that a possibility?"

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. "I give up! _No_ , it's not a possibility, you idiot, she's marrying _you_ , isn't she? Merlin's beard—"

"Mister Black," Albus interrupted amusedly. "The ceremony is starting."

James whipped around in excitement and anticipation, eager to catch a glimpse of Lily. He could feel Sirius' eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

Lily climbed out of a small carriage they had hired for exactly this reason, and James swore he had never seen anything so beautiful.

* * *

Snape watched as Lily climbed out of the carriage. She was beautiful. There was no other word to describe her. She was wearing a simple white dress that Severus knew had been her mother's. Her long red hair was twisted up in a bun and braided with flowers. She cradled a large bouquet in her small hands; lilies, of course. The thing that was most dazzling about her, however, was her smile. Deep down, Severus sadly realized that he had never made her smile like that.

He wanted to. That's what he had strived for, every day of their friendship. But it was not to be.

As Lily walked down the aisle, preparing to be wed to Potter, Snape watched, hidden amongst the guests. He debated whether he should protest when the time came, but ultimately decided against it. Lily, he knew, would never forgive him for dampening her wedding day.

But he watched, and he yearned.

* * *

James' heartbeat, surprisingly enough, steadied as he said his vows. He was confident in their marriage. He loved Lily, and he knew that she loved him.

He gently slid the ring on her finger, marveling at how well it suited her. While this was a very serious occasion, James felt rather giddy at the thought that this magnificent woman was going to call him her _husband._

It was unreal.

As he kissed her, sealing their matrimonial ties, a thousand possible futures with Lily flashed through his head.

All of them ended happily.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Hey, y'all! So sorry for the wait! I moved and lost my notes for this story… I'm so sorry. Also, I apologize for the last two chapters—they were kind of fillers, and this chapter doesn't move the plot too far along… but it's a start.**

 **As always, thanks to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed! Life's been a bit hectic lately, but knowing that you all haven't forgotten this story means a lot to me. A lot of you have told me that you love my conversion of canon, and I just wanted to express my thanks. :) I spend a lot of time wondering how to slip certain things in, so it's really nice that it's being appreciated.**

 **WARNINGS: allusions to sex in this chapter. Definitely not featured XD.**

 **NOTE: I'm going to try to update monthly from now on. So if it's been a month and I haven't updated, PLEASE PM me. Don't be afraid to add a lecture.**

 **Lastly, if anyone had a song request (remember: Broadway only), then I'll try to fit it in. No promises, though. ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Letting Go (Jekyll and Hyde)**

 **Chapter 21**

Lily Potter. Well, it would take some getting used to, but she was happy to take the name of the man she loved. Even if she _was_ a bit of a feminist and didn't believe a woman should have to take her husband's name if they didn't want to. But she didn't mind.

Lily _Potter_. Her heart swelled. She was married; she felt on top of the world. Nothing could bring her down.

"Lily."

Except this. Lily closed her eyes. All around her the wedding reception was in full swing, but she'd suddenly lost her appetite. She recognized that voice; how could she not? She'd grown up hearing it.

She opened her eyes but didn't turn around. "Severus."

His footsteps drew closer. "You married Potter."

His tone was disapproving, dissatisfied, as though that was the most disgusting action he could think of. Lily's blood boiled.

"I know you don't like him," she said icily, "but I love him. And you don't get any say in that."

His next words surprised her. "I know that. Really, I do." His words persuaded her to turn to face him. "Lily, I… I don't want to see you hurt."

The admission pained him, it was clear to see; Severus always had hated admitting to vulnerability, and to him, nothing caused more vulnerability than tender emotions. His dark eyes bore into her almost desperately. Lily squared her shoulders. "He won't hurt me."

Severus shook his head impatiently. "Not Potter. The," He lowered his voice. "the Dark Lord."

Lily eyed him warily. "Why would be target me? He's never even heard of me. And if he goes after James— I won't leave. I just promised to stand by him until death do us part." Her gaze turned hard. "But I'll stand beside him even after he's gone— I swear that to you right here, right now."

Severus' sallow skin grew paler. He shifted slightly, barely noticeably, but Lily had known him for over a decade. She could tell when he was uncomfortable— when he was hiding things.

"Severus," she began softly, a prickle of fear at the base of her spine. "Severus, if you know anything, now's the time to say it."

He held her gaze for several seconds, the air between them heavy with what remained unspoken. As time ticked by, Lily couldn't help but think of the boy who had been such a good friend to her in their childhood; the boy who'd told her marvelous stories of a better world, where they wouldn't be treated as inferior. As they grew up, the thing that had severed their friendship was their difference in opinion on how they could obtain that utopia; Lily believed that it would come with the acceptance of all people— Severus believed that he had to work his way up through the hierarchy's ranks. But just because they had grown into two different people didn't mean that she didn't remember the happy days they had spent together. Nor could she forget the boy he had been.

She saw that boy now. As she looked up at him, she caught a glimpse of what he tried so fiercely to hide from the world: his fear. He was scared of something, but the puzzle was what— she didn't know the insides of his life anymore. Her instincts were telling her that whatever he was so fearful of, it should terrify her.

She took a step towards him, her white gown trailing a little behind her. The reception party had come to life around them, but suddenly, the last thing Lily wanted to do was dance. Years of laughter and sunshine were flickering through her mind, and Severus wasn't the potentially dangerous Death Eater he was now— all she could see then was the boy who'd been funny and kind to her, who had just wanted to be _liked_. He could take everything she said and relay it back to his master, but that thought didn't cross her mind. He could grab her now, hurt her, under the pretense that she was a suspected Order member; and she was, had practically admitted as much to him. But she spoke to him anyway.

"Please, Severus. If our friendship meant anything to you, tell me what I should be wary of."

He held her gaze for a long time, indecision waging a war behind his eyes. He opened his mouth slightly, then snapped it closed again. He looked away.

"All I can say is that no one can protect you from him— and you can't protect anyone else he decides to kill, either."

Her stomach began churning. "Who?" she demanded. "Severus, who is he trying to kill?"

Severus shook his head, his jaw clenched. "Don't fight him, Lily. You can't win."

Her hands curled into fists. "You've already given up. That's why _you_ can't win. But I still believe things can get better— that they _will_ get better— and that's why I will be victorious."

Severus looked at her coldly. "You are a fool if you believe that you will escape this unscathed."

Lily stepped forward, her wedding gown making her no less intimidating. "I've already been hurt," she whispered, thinking of Dorcas, Fabian, and Gideon. "But if you think that your master won't betray you, then you are the fool."

Severus' eyes darkened with rage. "I'm no fool, _Potter._ "

She stepped back, stung but unsurprised. "So that's it, then. It's come to this. We really are on two different sides."

Snape lifted his chin. "It would appear so."

Lily steeled her resolve and spoke again. "I can't be caught between sides. This is it. If you choose Riddle… then you have lost me."

His shoulders squared, Snape crossed his arms. "If you choose the Order, then you have lost me."

"Then I guess this is goodbye," she said softly.

His shoulders trembled slightly, but his face remained stoic. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Finally, he whipped around and stalked away, without so much as a glance in her direction.

Lily wrapped her arms around herself. "Goodbye," she whispered.

The wind blew cold around her.

She jumped as she heard someone approaching. When she turned around, she discovered that it was her new husband.

A frown marred his handsome features. "Lily. What's wrong?"

Lily hurried over to James, quickly wrapping her arms around his slender frame. "I… I had to say goodbye."

James hugged her tightly. "Well, then… can I come say hello?"

Her eyes watered as she chuckled softly. "Hullo, James. I'm Lily."

James pulled away a fraction, looking lovingly into her eyes. "You don't have to forget him. Cherish the time you had. Just remember that people grow. We aren't perfect, and our decisions will vary. Sometimes the path we find ourselves on forks in a direction we never saw coming. But all roads lead to something great."

Lily rested her head against his chest, comforted by the beating of his heart. "Good great… or terrible great?"

James was silent for a moment. "I suppose that depends on why you are making the journey."

* * *

James carried her over the threshold of their new home, "in the name of tradition".

She found she couldn't mind.

The rest of the reception had been lots of fun. As soon as she had put Severus out of her mind, she had been able to join the party. Still, her heart ached for the loss of her friend. She and Severus were two different people now, with clashing views.

She'd just have to learn to accept it.

They were sitting on the loveseat, side-by-side. She turned to James, who was staring out the window of their home a bit wistfully. Lily frowned, then grabbed his hand.

"Is something wrong, James?"

He looked at her, his hazel eyes startled. "No— no, of course not, Lily." He tried for a smile. "I'm happy Lily, really. This was one of the best days of my life!"

Lily raised an eyebrow; she wasn't fooled by her husband's words. "I know you, James Potter. Something's on your mind."

He sighed, looking suddenly exhausted. "I guess," he began, his words soft and hesitant, "that I just wish… as marvelous as today was, I can't help but wish that Peter could have been there."

The admission was shame-faced, which caught Lily off-guard. "James," she murmured. "Of course you'd want him there. He was our friend, and you cared an awful lot about him. What he did… nobody saw it coming, James. He seemed so sweet."

James slammed his hands on his knees. He looked furious with himself. "He betrayed us, Lily. He is the reason that Dorcas, Fabian, and Gideon are dead. And yet, when I think of the name Peter Pettigrew, what comes to mind is the kind, slightly timid man who knew exactly what to say to ease Remus' nerves, cool Sirius' anger, diffuse an awkward situation. I don't think of a man who— who lied to us all, gave away our position to Riddle, and caused the deaths of three of the people I care about. Did… did we push him into that? Did we do enough to make him feel wanted? Did we fail him?"

He looked so helpless, and what killed Lily was that she didn't know what to say that wouldn't be a lie, but would also sooth his worries. Eventually, she said, "Sometimes… sometimes we just can't save them."

The newlyweds sat in silence for a long while, both thinking about the person they had failed to save from the raging storm. Lily wasn't naive. She knew that things would get worse before they got better, that they hadn't seen the worst of the damage. Still, she'd cherish the time she could steal with him before the world descended into hell.

"We got married today," James murmured suddenly. This startled a laugh out of Lily.

"Did that escape your notice?" she teased.

James sent her a small grin. "I guess I just can't believe that it actually happened. We're husband and wife."

"Bound together until death do us part," Lily whispered, suddenly somber.

James' hazel eyes were solemn. "'Til death do us part."

Sitting there, with him so close, Lily suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of affection wash over her. In this world, there was no telling if they'd have a lifetime, or just tomorrow. She could die, James could die, and they'd blink out of existence once the last person who remembered them was gone.

She wanted to leave an imprint, and piece of themselves on the earth. It was in the middle of a war, even in the fighting had been slow for a while now, but it was still reckless and dangerous. Yet, as the two leaned towards each other, Lily had a feeling that whatever came out of what they did tonight would be the most beautiful thing she'd ever been in the presence of.

Their love was so thick in the air between them that it felt as though it was enveloping the two of them. Right now, in that moment, they were all that mattered.

The bedroom door shut behind them, and their love took life.

* * *

Severus was seething. He stormed down the streets of Hogsmeade, only barely satisfied as people scrambled to get out of his way. Over the past few months, Riddle had seized more power, and now his followers could roam the streets without having to hide their true intentions. They had pushed the Order of the Phoenix to the shadows, and it was there that Riddle was determined to keep them. Severus wore his Death Eater status like a steel crown— a heavy burden, but one that made clear his authority and power.

 _She_ had never been impressed with things like that. What she wanted, he wasn't satisfied with. He wanted to be respected, to finally be viewed as someone worth looking up to, not down at. But not her. She wanted happiness, thought that could be achieved by equality.

Didn't she realize? Never had there been true equality. History's greatest empires had been built on the backs of slaves. Society couldn't help but use certain types of people as stepping stones to build itself up. Equality was a distant dream, an idea made up for the comfort of those who were too reluctant or unable to leave a stamp on the earth. Equality did not exist, and she was naive to think it could be attained.

And yet, knowing these things didn't make him love her any less.

If love was a flame, his was burning too brightly. It was at once the best and worst type of fire, and as much as he wanted to be free of the pain it brought him, the beauty and mystery of it was not something he wanted to douse. The pain was always accompanied by a brief moment of bliss, which seemed to be worth the burns. His love for her at times felt like it was killing him, but it just as often saved his life.

He wondered what sort of person he'd have already become if he hadn't had her to hold on to.

Thunder clapped above him, the sky the angry color of slate. Fat drops of water fell from above, the heavens themselves damning either the union of the two Order members, or the state humanity had left the world in.

He reached an alleyway lined with abandoned buildings. Suddenly exhausted, Severus' legs gave out and he hit the ground painfully. Sobs wracked his body, consuming every ounce of energy left within him. He screamed his agony, showing his weakness only because the storm covered it up, and that every soul in Hogsmeade was too far away to hear.

He screamed as the rain poured down upon him, slapped his fists against the wet ground, clawed at the street until his fingers were raw and bloody. His heart beat excruciatingly; he could feel his hot blood pulsing beneath his skin. _There_ was the fire, the source of his undoing. It was the soul of his weakness, and it was killing him. He didn't care what they said about pain proving you were alive— if this was life, then he would only be content with the cool fingers of death. His heart was frying his flesh from within; it was threatening to burst. He had never believed that a heart could break, but his was exploding. Desperately he tried to put out the furnace inside his chest, but to no avail. The fabric of his clothes clung to him with sweat and water, and every pore on his skin had erupted with agony. His limbs twitched uncontrollably, his lungs were full of acid. And still, the never ending sound of his screaming, echoing in his mind matching the frantic jumping of his heart. This went beyond pain, beyond agony. This was true torture, this unrequited love, this hatred of his feelings. The pain intensified, reached its peak, and he knew in that moment that nothing in the world could possibly be worse than this.

Then— nothing. He was left gasping into the dirt, unable to control his shaking body, his eyes bloodshot. He was completely exhausted, but inside he felt— nothing. Completely hollowed out. All he could see were his goals; there was no love to draw his eye and make him stray from the path. The living dead suddenly made sense to him. He did not have enough heart to be alarmed by his lack of emotions.

He had doomed her, he thought calmly. In withholding the information he had, she would most certainly perish. Still, he felt nothing.

He got to his feet, his hair stuck to his face. His skin glistened with water, and he couldn't feel the cold, although he was no longer on fire. The flames had been doused; all that remained were the ashes. To put out the furnace, all he had had to do was learn to hate her eyes.

He didn't deserve this pain. It was Potter and everyone like him who deserved to finally know the torture of desiring something just out of reach. One day soon, it would be Severus who was respected; all he had to do was give himself completely to the Dark Lord.

Pale lips slowly turned up into a smile. In death, he had come to life, and there was no grave to stop him now.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry for the wait, once again. And thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed! Your words are always so kind and supportive, and I really appreciate that. As always, thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed—y'all mean the world to me. :)**

 **A guest asked if I would update soon—I promise you, I will be updating once a month. And sorry this is so short. School. But look at the bottom for update info.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Good For You (Dear Evan Hansen)**

 **Chapter 22**

Peter Pettigrew wasn't quite sure why he'd come to this place. He highly doubted he would be welcomed—in fact, he would die of shock if he was—yet there he stood.

He ran a hand through his disheveled blond hair, frowning. The last few months had been difficult for him. He hadn't quite realized what exactly the cost of his safety had been until he'd paid it; now he was hoping that, somehow, he could earn it back.

Peter entered the run-down shop where he knew Remus worked, his hands shaky and pale. He had considered going to James or Sirius first, but decided that Remus would be the most likely to hear him out.

 _Not,_ whispered a voice in his ear, _that you deserve it._

Peter shook his head, trying to quell the uneasiness welling up inside him. He put one foot in front of the other, slowly approaching the counter. He could do this. He was worth something. The brown-haired man slowly began to turn towards him.

He was thinner than Peter remembered, which seemed backwards. Shouldn't he be healthier now that the Potters and Sirius were looking after him? But there were dark circles under his eyes, clueing Peter in on the other man's lack of sleep. Was it the usual post-captivity nightmares keeping him up? Or was it a newer, fresher trauma?

Remus' eyes widened almost comically, his face paling. Peter didn't let this deter him; he kept walking.

Just as he reached the counter, Remus came out of his shock. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked sharply. "You need to leave. You aren't _welcome—_ "

"I am, actually," Peter interrupted softly. "You see, you don't own the place, and I highly doubt your superior would appreciate it if you kicked a customer out."

Remus grit his teeth, his amber eyes fiery. "Fine," he snapped. "Buy something and _get out._ "

Peter ignored his comment. "I didn't mean for them—any of them—to die."

 _Lies. Someone had to die—you just didn't want it to be you._

"But they did," Remus said quietly, his voice deadly. "And now their blood is on your hands."

Peter's heart fluttered wildly in his chest. "But they weren't meant to." _Stop lying to him. He won't trust you, he can see through it._ "If they had only listened to him—"

Remus turned his back to him, and Peter could see every taut muscle, could practically feel his old friend's rage and sorrow. "What did you expect to happen? Riddle to fire a few warning shots?"

Peter flinched, but Remus didn't say anything more. He took a step forward. "You can still escape," he whispered. "You can still leave them, and—"

"Why would I want to do that?" Remus asked harshly, whipping around. "Dorcas, Fabian, and Gideon are _dead._ They died for a cause you were too cowardly to fight for."

Peter's eyes glinted angrily. "I'm no coward!"

"Aren't you?" Remus shot back. "Because the only other reason you would betray us was if you believed in the cause. Do you? Do you think people like me shouldn't be here?"

"No," Peter muttered. "Of course I don't. But he doesn't think you shouldn't be here either—you're not dangerous to him, Remus, you can still escape what's coming—"

"Leave," Remus demanded. "Or I'll do something that will get me fired."

Peter stared at him for a long time. Finally, he turned on his heel and left, shoulders slumped. Remus hadn't listened. Why had Peter even thought he would?

It wasn't his fault if Remus, James, or Sirius died, he told himself. He'd tried to bring them to safety, and they hadn't listened. He was brave for even approaching one of them; he wasn't a coward.

The sun beat down on him as he walked, trying to convince himself that what he'd done was the right thing. He wanted to believe himself, but he couldn't.

He was tired of this war. All he wanted was peace—why was that so hard to achieve? He dreamed of a world where he didn't have to help kill someone so he could walk through the streets with his head held high, where no one would look at him with disdain or hatred. A world where he could simply _be._

But that was what the Order was trying to build, wasn't it? And as much as Peter wanted to think otherwise, he knew that he would never see such a paradise as anything but a dream.

Dreams didn't come true. They were meant only as a comfort for those who were asleep. The thing about Peter, though, was that he feared that entertaining those dreams for too long would keep him from ever waking up.

* * *

The next day, Peter was walking along the street, his hands deep in his pockets. He wasn't sure where he was going, but wasn't bothered by that fact; he couldn't be bothered by a lot of things anymore.

It was so difficult sometimes, figuring out what was best. He didn't want to die. He knew that. But he didn't want his old friends to die, either. He'd always been told that the best thing to do was whatever made you happy, but was he? The price of his own safety had been three of the lives of the people he cared about. That wasn't something he was proud of, nor was it a price he was willing to pay again.

So would dying make him happy? Well, it wouldn't much matter at that point, would it? No, there had to be some sort of in-between. But what was it?

He looked up at the clear blue sky, deceptive in its beauty. What horrors had it seen over the centuries? Had it ever wished to take on a tangible form, to fight for one side of humanity or another? Somehow, standing idly by while others raged war seemed cruel.

Peter wasn't a cruel person, but he'd done cruel things.

He let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to risk his life. When he'd joined the Order, it had seemed the safest—it was a place where people thought like him, where differences were embraced. He didn't need to feel afraid there.

But he'd left himself be intimidated. Every smile thrown his way his mind poisoned until it looked like a sneer. Every compliment his ears tricked him into thinking was condescending. How could they love him, have any sort of respect for him, when he lacked it in himself?

And Malfoy had known that, hadn't he? He'd been able to see Peter's weaknesses and insecurities and had exploited them, telling him that he could _live_ , in a world where he wouldn't have to hide. He'd wanted to achieve something, to live for something, and for some reason, they wanted him. The idea had been thrilling. The Order was all about a unit as a whole—the Death Eaters had been marvellously individual. He hadn't realized just how much of a curse that could be.

Perhaps being one's own self was important, but knowing how to come together as a community to fight against a common enemy was equally so.

And then he thought of Dorcas, and his pace slowed. She'd been so young—barely older than he was. Her eyes had been so full of fire, her body so lithe and strong. She should have had years left to live, but his actions had indirectly cut them short.

Then there were Fabian and Gideon. They had nephews, a sister, a brother-in-law… and now half those boys would grow up without any recollection of the brave men who had been their uncles. It wasn't fair.

Was his life really worth more than all this misery?

Peter ducked into a nearby alley and sat down, his heart too heavy for his legs to support. If holding this guilt inside him was the cost of living, then he wasn't sure he wanted to. It would just kill him anyway.

Peter sighed, dropping his head into his hands. He knew what he had to do, and it wouldn't be easy. Still, he would rather be remembered in the minds of others as something other than a coward.

He just hoped he wasn't too late.

* * *

Remus didn't tell anyone about meeting Peter.

He wasn't sure why; there wasn't a good explanation for his silence. All he knew was that he was ashamed of the way he had reacted. He hadn't yelled, or punched the man who'd caused the deaths of three of the people he cared most about. He'd been angry, but he'd let Peter's words get to him.

 _You see, you don't own the place, and I highly doubt your superior would appreciate it if you kicked a customer out._

Was he really that afraid of being fired? Why couldn't he have just thrown caution to the wind and given in to what he felt was right? Peter wouldn't listen to those careful, controlled words. There was nothing to fear in them.

Maybe Peter wasn't the only coward out of the four of them. And that scared him too, didn't it? He didn't want to be seen as afraid, weak… but he couldn't stand the thought of being tossed to the side, either. He wanted to feel needed, appreciated. He wanted to give back to Frank and Alice.

He didn't want to be a burden, and if he was forced to freeload then that would be exactly what he was.

Night was falling, and Remus shivered against the sharp wind. His hair blew about his face, obstructing his view now and then, but he didn't pay it much mind. He was too lost in his thoughts.

Which, evidently, was a mistake.

"Oi!"

Remus stumbled back, very aware that he had just knocked someone over. He dropped the bags of groceries that Alice had asked him to pick up, hurrying over to the woman on the ground.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, horrified. "I wasn't paying any attention, I'm so sorry—"

To his surprise, she laughed. "Mate, don't worry about it. I fall over my own feet all the time; it's nice that it's not my fault for a change."

She grinned up at him, and Remus could make out choppily-cut brown hair falling to her chin, and large, grey eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

He cleared his throat, holding out a hand to help her up. "Still, I apologize. You're not hurt, are you?"

She shook her head, then began gathering up his groceries, to his shock. "No, I'm perfectly fine. I hope whatever was distracting you wasn't too heavy a topic."

Remus quickly began picking up the bags, going a bit red. "Nothing out of the usual."

She intrigued him. Typically, women wore skirts and grew their hair long in Hogsmeade, but this woman was wearing men's clothes. He felt almost comforted—here was another person that didn't quite fit into society. He almost smiled.

She looked as though she didn't quite believe his words—or perhaps more accurately, she saw right through them—but she didn't call him out on it. She handed him the last of the bags, then stuck out her hand.

"Tonks," she said. "Nymphadora Tonks, if you must know, but call me by my surname only. You won't like what happens if you call me anything else."

Remus awkwardly shook her hand, trying not to drop any of the groceries. "I'll keep that in mind. And I'm Remus Lupin. It's nice to meet you."

Tonks smiled. She was nearly a full head shorter than him, but Remus didn't get the sense that she was helpless in any way at all. "Nice to meet you, too. Are you around often?"

Remus shrugged. She hadn't seemed to make the connection that he was a recently released convict, and he wasn't about to correct her. News traveled fast in Hogsmeade, anyway—if she told anyone of their meeting, all they had to do was hear about his scars and they would tell her exactly who she had been conversing with.

"I'm here quite a bit, yeah. Working and the like."

Tonks nodded, a smile on her face. "I'm here quite a bit, too. Funny we haven't run into each other before now, really."

Remus grinned. "Shame, that."

Her smile was blinding. "Well, I've got to get going, Lupin, but I hope to run into you again sometime."

Remus smiled and nodded. "Next time you can knock me down, yeah?"

Tonks laughed out loud at that, attracting a couple of glances from passerby. "Oh, Lupin, don't worry. I probably will."

She clapped him on the shoulder and then walked away. Remus watched her go, a fond smile on his face. He was appreciative of her—it was moments like these that reminded him that there were people left to fight for. There was joy left in the world.

Peter had almost been completely chased out of his mind.

When he returned to the Longbottoms', it was late indeed. He opened the door quietly, so as not to wake anyone who happened to be asleep, but hadn't even made it through the doorway before Frank's wide eyes appeared in his vision.

"Alice," he gasped. "She—she—"

Fear flooded through Remus, nearly stopping his heart. "Is she all right?" he asked urgently. "Frank, what—"

" _She's having the baby!"_

It took a moment for his friend's words to catch up with him. When he finally did process them, he shoved Frank's arm.

"What are you waiting for? Get in there!"

Frank nodded, slightly dazed, and began to back away towards the master bedroom. "Get Madam Pomfrey," he requested. "Alice wants her here—"

"I will!" Remus assured him, laughing from the sheer joy of it all. There was a baby coming into their lives. A living, breathing miracle. And he'd be there for it all. "Frank, I'm going, I'm going!"

He was going to be an _uncle._ Frank and Alice would be parents. Augusta would be a grandmother. It was absurd. So, so beautifully absurd.

There was hope for this world yet.

 **A/N: I know, I know—a day late. I'm really sorry. The good news is, in honor of this fic's first birthday, you'll be getting an update on the 9th! Yay! And yes, this will be RemusTonks. It's a canon pairing, I love them, so… that's that. :)**


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